A Life Worth Living
by ClassicLovinGirl
Summary: As Ben's three sons try to deal with the sudden death of their patriarch, mysterious accidents start occurring on the Ponderosa, leading to a dangerous game of discovery and revenge...
1. Chapter 1

~CHAPTER 1~

The only way to describe a day like this was bleak. Thin sheets of rain insisted on constantly pouring down, and the sun hadn't shined for days as if it were denying the proceeding that was soon to occur. The downpour brought out the smell of pines all around as thousands of drops rolling down needles and trickling through cones created a rhapsody of sound as they hit the ground.

Everything was still on the Ponderosa; not a hand was working, not a creature hauling. Little Joe Cartwright was standing alone on the porch of his home, looking out across the ranch house yard. The last of their friends had arrived, and soon it would be time. Dozens of buggies and buckboards were lined up in straight rows, the horses standing quietly until their owners were ready to drive them back home.

_Time for me to go inside and stand alongside my brothers,_ Joe thought, although he was far from ready to do that yet. He wasn't ready to accept the terrible happening as fact. _How could it have happened? It shouldn't have happened,_ of that he was certain. _So senseless, so meaningless. _

Sighing heavily to himself, he ran a hand over his tired face before turning and going over the threshold of the front door, which before had reminded him of many happy memories, but would serve to mark a dark one today. He first saw his brother Hoss standing just inside the doorway, greeting the last of the guests and guiding them to the few remaining empty chairs. Joe was shocked at how quickly the great room had filled to its capacity, as if the entire Comstock had come to offer their condolences and support to his family. He saw many good friends. Annie and the Swede, the Tatums, Mrs. Cameron, Todd and Virginia McKaren with their little girl and even ailing Andy McKaren were there. Sheriff Roy Coffee and Doctor Paul Martin, among the first to arrive, were in the front of the room.

"It's just about time, Lil' Joe," Hoss said, his blue eyes not twinkly as usual, but as sad as Joe had ever seen them.

Joe nodded slowly and began to look through the black-suited men and veiled women as he searched for one person in particular. "Where's Adam?"

Hoss looked toward the stairs. "Up in...in Pa's room," he said, pushing the words out through tightly drawn lips.

Joe put a comforting hand on his big brother's shoulder before heading toward the stairs to fetch his eldest one. Joe paused outside of his father's bedroom door. Not sure whether he should knock or not, he decided to simply open the door and enter. He instantly spotted his brother, clad in his best black suit with his back straight and hands hung limp at his sides, staring out the foggy window at the gloomy precipitation.

Joe hated to disturb him but knew he had no choice. "Adam?" No response. He really hadn't expected one. "Adam, the guests are all here... it's time." He knew his brother had heard him although he didn't move. Closing the door quietly, he decided to wait in the hallway for Adam to come. No sooner had he closed the door behind him than Joe heard the music start downstairs.

Shortly, the door re-opened and Adam stepped out, standing tall with head held high, but shoulders lacking the confidence and assurance that had, before, always kept them rigid. He quietly closed the door behind him and stopped a moment to look at his youngest brother, who tried desperately to keep his composure as their father's favorite hymn, _Amazing Grace_, was being played. He placed a hand on Joe's shoulder, just as Joe himself had done for Hoss a few minutes earlier, and gave a slight squeeze of reassurance. As they headed down the hallway, Adam stopped at the top of the stairs and heaved a shaky sigh before slowly starting the descent to the first floor.

All of the guests turned in their seats and observed the oldest and youngest Cartwright brothers silently come down the steps. No one spoke as they were joined by the remaining brother and finished their journey to the front of the room. Hoss and Joe took their seats in the front row beside the Sheriff and Doctor as Adam made his way to the podium in front of the large gathering. He painfully glanced at the closed, flower-surrounded casket, before turning and placing his hands on either side of the podium just as the music ended.

Looking down for a moment, he tried to gather his scattered thoughts before he lifted his eyes to meet those of his brothers. He held their gaze for a good minute, and both Hoss and Joe thought their brother would finally break his calm and collected manner and let the flood gates of despair pour through him. To their surprise, Adam finally shifted his gaze toward the patiently waiting group and began in a voice slightly choked by unspent tears, "My father, was a great man..."


	2. Chapter 2

~CHAPTER 2~

Adam had been uncharacteristically quiet, even for him, ever since he had given the eulogy at his father's funeral. He could easily say without a shadow of a doubt, it was the hardest thing he had ever had to do in his whole life. Going back through the memories of his father and reminiscing about his hearty laugh, his sensible nature, and the strict but loving way he had dealt with his sons growing up, was the most he had ever taxed the well-kept control he'd learned to keep on his feelings.

And for what? All of this grief for what? What had that great man died for? Nothing. Adam had thought, when he was a young boy, that he himself would die a heroic death by either running into the path of a wild horse to protect a child, or getting shot stopping outlaws from robbing a bank. Unbeknownst to him, even though he had given up such fanciful illusions for himself, he had still entertained those ideas for his father just because Ben Cartwright was the type of man that would die a death like that, a death of purpose, of meaning and of heroism.

Whatever his thoughts on such things, he would never have thought that he would pass the way he had. Such a simple thing... such a simple task as picking up supplies and the mail, had turned into the last job Ben Cartwright ever did in life.

The brothers were unbelieving when Roy had ridden into the yard that morning and regretfully informed them that their father had been trapped in a landslide on the way back from town.

_"What are you trying to say, Roy?" Adam asked stiffly as Hoss and Joe held their breaths, not wanting to accept the next thing they knew they would hear. _

_"What I'm tryin' to say is... he's dead, son. Your Pa's dead. His wagon was caught in the landslide and swept into the Truckee River..." _

They quickly overcame their shock and immediately tried to disclaim the fact by mounting up and riding out to the scene of the accident. What they found were the remains of the buckboard Ben had been driving to haul the supplies, and the body of the horse that had been pulling it. All the evidence that even showed their father had been there was his hat that they found caught in brambles on the bank of the treacherous Truckee. They scoured both sides of the bank for miles, trying to find some sign of him. A mile down the river they saw Ben's tan coat washed up on the bank, torn and ripped almost beyond recognition with blood stains all over it. Everyone knew, although no one was willing to voice his thoughts, that with the bad rains they had been undergoing lately and the swiftness of the river, he had probably been sucked to the bottom by rapids and torn apart by the razor-sharp rocks there.

After three unending days and nights of searching, the Cartwright brothers, barely able to sit in a saddle anymore, had to admit defeat, however hard it might've been. Joe hadn't wanted to stop looking. Adam could still remember him yelling they would find their Pa no matter how long it took even though he was on the verge of collapse from exhaustion. Hoss had to pick him up and put him on his horse to get him back to the ranch. After taking a dose of sleeping powder given them by Doc Martin, all three had reluctantly given in to their fatigue.

The hands and helpers in the search mission were deeply saddened by the loss of their boss and dear friend. It was bad enough to have this great man's life end so abruptly and tragically, but to have it end like it had, with not so much as a body to honor, was heart-breaking beyond words.

It had been almost two months since their father had taken that fateful trip to Virginia City, and even though all three of the sons went through the daily ritual of work and chores, it wasn't the same. Something was missing and would always be missing, no matter how many years had passed. The Ponderosa was their father's dream, the thing that he had traversed the entire country to find. He had built it board by board, field by field, fence by fence, with the help of his sons, and it didn't seem right to think that they would never again see him roaming its vast ranges or declaring the breathtaking valleys as the finest ever to be seen by human eyes.

Adam was at such a valley now, looking over its expansive beauty as he had often done so many times with his father. He had taken up nearly all of Ben's responsibilities now and tried his best at running the ranch as smoothly as he had. Adam was somewhat shocked at how he was taking his father's death. Honestly, he had lived with death all his life. He had seen two of his mothers die right before his eyes and had witnessed several friends' and neighbors' deaths, as well as having to end the life of his best friend himself in self-defense. This time, however, he felt an uneasiness that he hadn't felt any of the other times. There was no sense of finality to it, no sense of completion that he expected to feel over such an incident. He was left with nothing but doubt. Maybe it was because he had been around his father the most and the longest of anyone else, or maybe because he hadn't actually seen him die like he had all the other people. He chided himself at the thought of having to see a person die in order to believe that they really had.

He and his two brothers had been dealing with their patriarch's death in their own different ways. Joe had taken to visiting his mother's grave, alongside which was now his father's, almost every evening, telling them both how his day went and usually ending in tears or very close to them. Hoss spent most of his time in the barn or out in the pastures with wildlife, feeling a sense of peace with the living creatures, a calming peace he could not find around people. Adam himself had taken to long wanderings by horseback to all the places that he and his father had worked and sweated to tame the land to what it was now.

He would usually not get home until quite late after his brothers had already gone to bed. It was reaching that time to head home now. The sun was quickly disappearing to unseen places beyond the horizon, streaking the sky with magnificent shafts of pink and purple radiance. He turned Sport around and slowly started back home. Since he had been gone for sometime, it was dark when he finally rode in to the yard. As he pulled to a stop just outside the barn, his mind played back the scenes that had taken place in that very yard, from his father leaving in the buckboard, to the mourners coming in great waves of black and gray. He shuddered a full breath then hurriedly steered into the barn and bedded down his horse before heading into the house.

As he took his hat, coat and gun belt off just inside the door, he could smell the lingering aroma of the supper he had missed. Hop Sing had undoubtedly saved a plate for him in the kitchen, but he didn't feel much like eating. Instead, he went over to the brandy bottle on his father's desk and poured himself a glass. He looked down at the second glass, empty on the platter and caught himself about to fill it for its owner. Come on, Adam. Snap out of it. He's gone and there's nothing you can do to bring him back. Accept it! he mentally scolded himself. He knew he couldn't keep holding on to a shadow of a hope that he was still alive; that was foolishness and no way to live. He was a grown man, and he vowed to finally push aside his doubts for the sake of his brothers and himself.

Adam looked at the green chair behind the desk where the great man had often sat scowling at figures in ledgers that plain refused to add up right. He could see the silver-haired head rise now and the beloved face, now and forever gone, smile at him as the work-worn hand lifted its full glass to his son.

"Here's to you, Pa," Adam said, slowly raising his own to the empty chair before bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip. "He's gone," he whispered with a sense of assumed finality into the darkness. "Time for me to move on." He replaced the glass on the tray, turned and headed off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

~CHAPTER 3~

"Three hundred head," Joe stated disgustedly. "Three hundred head of our prime cattle, gone just like that." He and his brothers were headed back to their ranch after a long hard day that began with a ranch hand racing up to the house bearing news of rustlers having struck their herd. They had immediately gone up to the north pasture, but it was too late. One of their best and largest herds was long gone. They followed the tracks long enough to realize that there was no chance of catching them. Whoever the rustlers were, they had timed and executed their nefarious work perfectly. It was probably one of the last times the cattle remained unwatched around the clock before driving them to market, and it was also the best beef out of their herds.

Joe stopped to tighten Cochise's loose cinch as Hoss and Adam continued on, knowing he'd catch up. Taking the opportunity to talk with his older brother alone, Hoss eased his way closer to Adam and spoke in a hushed tone. "Adam, I know how hard these past few weeks have been on us, with that forest fire takin' out our main supply of timber we was plannin' on usin' for that big contract and all," he winced as he remembered how Adam had to give up the hard-earned and substantial lumber contract because of the untimely fire. "And now with these rustlers makin' off with three-hundred head we was plannin' on drivin' to Sacramento City next week, our finances can't be none too happy at the moment," Hoss said bleakly.

"I know," Adam responded as he never once took his eyes off the trail in front of them. "I've been going over the books." He ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We were having some trouble months ago even before...the accident," for that is what they now referred to it as. "Now with these complications," he paused, before looking at his brother, "Hoss, I can't remember when we've been this hard up before."

"I can't remember us havin' such a string of bad luck before neither," Hoss agreed. He let out a giant sigh as he gave his companion a good-natured slap on the back. "Don't you worry none, Adam. Things'll get better." _They've got to_ he silently thought to himself.

"What are you two talking about?" Joe asked as he trotted up behind them.

"Oh, nothin' much, Joe. Just wonderin' when you was gonna get your sorry hide caught up to us."

"Uh huh," Joe answered skeptically. "It's about the accidents lately, isn't it? I took a look at the books last night."

Adam smirked. Leave it to his nosy younger brother to find out about something they were trying to keep low-key. "Yes, Joe, it was. But I really don't see any need to talk about it further. What's done is done. We can't get the timber or the beef back, so let's just cut our losses, try to keep anything else from happening and move on." Joe and Hoss watched Adam move into a trot to widen the distance between them and didn't try to follow. They knew he wanted some time by himself to think.

"He's taking it hard isn't he?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, I reckon he is, Joe. These accidents have probably taken their toll on _him_ more than anybody."

"But, why? What affects one of us, affects us all."

"I know that, Little Joe. But..."

"But, what?"

"Well, Adam's tryin' tuh take over fer Pa, and that means takin' care of us'n the ranch. With all these things happenin', he feels like he's lettin' him'n us down." Joe looked at Hoss, never really understanding how a person could read into another's thoughts as well as Hoss could into Adam's. Even to Pa, his oldest brother had sometimes been a closed book, but never to Hoss. "Now I know it weren't his fault and there wasn't nothin' he could do, but you know what it'd be like tellin' him that."

"Yeah," Joe replied. They continued on in silence, their musings more than enough to keep them occupied.

They made it back to the ranch by early evening. Hunting for stolen beef most of the day and winding up with nothing but saddle sores for their trouble, drained all of them of any energy they might've had. "Adam, why don't you lemme untack ol' Sport fer yuh," Hoss suggested, noticing how tired his brother looked. "You go on inside'n take a rest 'afore supper.

Adam was about to refuse when he saw Hoss's pleading look and knew it'd do more for Hoss than him if he accepted the offer. "Alright. Thanks, Hoss. Could one of you also send a hand to wire Mr. Blair that we won't be making the shipment?" He patted the smooth red chest of his horse before slowly making his way for the house.

"Sure thing, Adam. I'll have him tell Roy about the rustlers, too," Joe called after him.

Adam stopped. The Sheriff should be told so he could warn other people to be on the lookout for future rustlings, but he knew Joe was still hoping their own cattle could be recovered. But there was no way; they were gone and irretrievable. However, trying to dredge up some hope for his brothers, he half-turned and replied, "Yeah, you do that, Joe. Thanks," before finishing his walk to the house. Hoss and Joe gazed after him until he had shut the front door behind him before leading their mounts inside the nice warm barn and away from the chilling wind that had picked up outside.

The horses had worked especially hard that day and they were sure to take extra special care of them, giving each one a bigger portion of oats before picking up brushes and rubbing them down. They worked side by side on their own mounts before they both started on Sport, wanting the deep chestnut to shine bright for his master. They remained silent for quite some time, the only sound coming from the bristles slicking their way through the thick hair, ridding it of all trail dust, leaving it spotless and sparkling in the lamplight.

Hoss finally broke the silence by asking, "Joe, yuh reckon how them rustlers knew just where those cattle were? That's prime grazin' land up there, way far off from any main roads. It beats all, don't it?"

"Yeah, I still can't help feeling there's something we could've done, but you're right. They couldn't have done it any better. It was as if..."

"As if what, Joe?"

"As if they had someone working on the inside, someone who we trust."

"Now Joe, who could that be? We haven't got any new hands in over a year, and every one we got now I'd just as soon trust muh life with."

"I don't know, Hoss. Guess I'm just speculating. Yuh know, if Pa were here he'd..."

Hoss looked over the top of the horse at his brother who'd quickly lowered his head to cover the tears that had suddenly sprung to his eyes. "He'd know what to do," Hoss finished for him. Joe's curls on the top of his head bobbed as he silently nodded. "You alright, Lil' Joe?"

"Yeah... yeah I'll be alright," Joe replied as he went back toward the rear of the horse and resumed his brushing with more vigor on the animal's flank. Even though their father had been dead for two months now, Hoss knew the sorrow was still very close... for all of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Guest - Thank you so much! It's fun getting inside the heads of each of the brothers, especially Hoss. He's a blast to write. Hope you enjoy the rest as the mystery gets a bit deeper.

BJ2 thank you so much for your comments! It's great to see a reader not only come back to continue reading, but review as well. It means a lot! Yes, that Adam is always willing to shoulder the brunt of responsibility, isn't he? Stay tuned to see if Joe's right. ;)

Thank you, BettHT. I hope you continue to enjoy it as more parts of the puzzle come into play.

You're right, guest. No body found. But could it mean something else entirely? ;)

It is a sad start to the story, AureaD. Thankfully I've never lost someone like that before, but I'd imagine especially with the boys, it'd take a while to forget and move on.

Thank you, guest!

~CHAPTER 4~

_What's keeping them? _Adam thought to himself as he got up from his chair and started pacing the length of the veranda, impatiently waiting for his brothers to return with the month's payroll. _They were supposed to have been back an hour and a half ago. _ Adam checked his watch again. _No, two hours ago. _ Something was wrong. He knew his brothers were inclined to spend a little extra time in one of the local saloons before coming back from a trip into town, but never with a ten thousand dollar payroll. No, he knew they would head straight back home. Something had to have gone wrong.

"Hop Sing!" Adam called urgently, turning toward the house.

"You call Hop Sing, Mista Adam?" the cook asked, rushing in and wiping his hands on his apron.

"Yes, I need you to watch the house. Hoss and Little Joe aren't back yet, and I'm going out to look for them," he said, grabbing his coat and buckling on his gun.

"Something happen to Mista Hoss and Little Joe?" the Chinaman asked, worry shining in his black eyes.

"Let's hope not, Hop Sing."

Adam didn't take the customary road that led into Virginia City, but the road his brothers had taken, a little-used road that added about twenty minutes onto the journey, but one they knew to be safer. As he came around a sharp bend, he spotted their buckboard stopped in the middle of the road, the horses standing still. "Oh, no," Adam's heartbeat quickened, and he urged Sport into a faster gallop as he spotted both his brothers lying by the side of the road. He dismounted before the horse had even slowed down and was knelt beside the closer one. He couldn't see any blood anywhere and could feel a steady pulse at his neck. Grasping behind his brother's neck gently with his hand, he called to him trying to bring him around.

"Joe? C'mon, Joe, wake up," he urged.

He was instantly relieved to see Joe's eyes soon flutter open. "Adam. Did... did they get the payroll?"

"Who?"

"The men that jumped us," Joe answered in annoyance, slowly easing himself into a sitting position.

"Easy, Joe."

"I'm fine, Adam. How's Hoss?" he asked as Adam bent over his other brother.

"Already coming around," Adam breathed thankfully.

"Adam?" Hoss said groggily.

"It's alright; you fellas were jumped. Joe's fine," he answered, helping Hoss up and handing him his hat that had been knocked off.

By this time Joe had carefully worked his way to his feet and stumbled to the back of the buckboard. At the base of the bed, in a pile, was the tarp they had used to cover the supplies, and more importantly, the money box. Joe hurriedly started moving sacks and packages out of the way trying to locate the precious box. He quickly found that it was no longer there. "They took the money," he said as Adam and Hoss came to stand next to him. "That was our main reserve for the men, wasn't it?" Joe asked hurriedly. "There isn't any more."

Hoss and Joe both looked at their brother as he shook his head, slowly running a hand over his face. "What happened?" he asked quickly. "Did you see who did it?"

"We didn't see anythin'. We'd just come 'round that blind bend when we heard somebody yellin' fer us to put up our hands and not turn around," Hoss explained.

"Did you recognize the voice at all?"

Both shook their heads no.

"There had to be at least two of them because I think we were knocked out at the same time," Joe reasoned.

"And that's all?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, the next thing I saw was you," he replied, rubbing his neck as he turned his aching head to scan the surrounding hills.

"This don't make sense, Adam. How did anybody know we was takin' this trail today, and even if'n somebody did find it, we didn't tell nobody we was bringin' the payroll back with us. For all anyone shoulda known we was goin' into town fer supplies."

"None of the hands knew?"

"No one except the foreman, Adam," Joe answered.

"N' Charlie's as honest as the day is long," Hoss added.

"I know, I know. Well, it just stands to reason that this is connected with the other accidents happening around here lately, the fire, the rustlers, and now this. All of these setbacks are happening too close together to be coincidence," Adam speculated. His deep hazel eyes looked off into the distance for a few moments before he stated grimly, "And yet the only thing they seem to have in common... is perfection."

"How do yuh mean?" Hoss asked.

"Well, think about it. The fire wiped out all of the timber that we were planning on using for the railway contract. That in and of itself is suspicious because even though it wasn't a very big stand of our overall timber it was the _only _timber we could've used for that contract because of its type and location. Second was the rustling just five days ago. Three hundred gone just like that, one of the cleanest rustlings I've ever seen in my life. Not a trace, not a clue left. Again, they were the cattle we were just about to drive to market. And lastly, this. We didn't tell anyone about the payroll, and yet here we are, ten thousand dollars poorer, only this ten thousand was gonna to keep us in business for the next three months. It wasn't just money for the hands, it was also money for expenses and supplies."

"That bad, huh?" Hoss asked.

Adam nodded. "I didn't realize before just _how_ bad it was. We were pushing ourselves before all this started happening. Our assets are practically all used up."

"Well, we've just gotta find a way to get back on top," Joe stated. "Maybe sell some land or some of our younger cattle. They won't fetch the same price of course... but at least it's something." Having to be worried about money was something quite new to him. His whole life they had always had enough. It had gotten hard at times, naturally, but never like this. It wasn't that he was worried about having to give up the comforts that he had always enjoyed, but he was afraid... no... more like terrified of losing the ranch... his father's Ponderosa. It was all of theirs, not just Adam's, responsibility to hold onto it for him, but never before did he appreciate just what Adam must feel as much as now.

Adam started a restless pacing between the wagon and the side of the road, his drawn brows indicating that he was deep in thought. "Who?" he finally growled as if to himself, but loud enough for his brothers to hear. "Who would know all of our operations? Down to the last detail it seems they've got us covered on all fronts. The only person that would know..." Adam stopped suddenly, his face becoming dark with confusion and... could it be frustration?

"What is it, Adam?" Hoss asked, concerned.

His question snapped Adam out of his trance-like look. "Nothing, nothing. Forget it," he said before continuing to pace again. "Another thing that's strange about the rustling, big ranches like ours are never the first places hit. Too big an operation. It's always the smaller ones that are targeted first. No, whoever it is is undoubtedly trying to destroy the Ponderosa bit by bit. But why?"

He paused for a long minute before continuing hesitantly, "We... we should keep an eye on _all_ of the hands, even ones that have been with us for a while, just in case. We can't take any chances with anyone anymore. Whoever's doing this _has_ to be working close to home."

"Too close," Joe answered, shivering not just from the approaching evening.

Adam sighed heavily and turned back to the buckboard, "Let's just get this rig home, and we'll start making some inquiries tomorrow."

"What about the hands? How are we going to pay them?" Joe asked.

"We've never once short-changed any of our men and we're not about to start now. We'll pay them for the work they've done for us so far with the reserves in the safe at the house. I just hope it's enough. Then I'm afraid we're gonna have to let them go," he finished with the air of a defeated man.

"Just till things get cleared up," Joe added.

"Yeah. Just till it's cleared up," Adam half-heartedly agreed.

As Adam remounted and he and Joe returned to their seats on the buckboard, Hoss couldn't keep his mind off of Adam's broken-off sentence. _The only person that would know... _Hoss had an idea of what he would've said, but kept it to himself for fear his brothers would think he was crazy or at least the victim of wishful thinking. _That's ridiculous, _he thought to himself. _Even if, he would never try to destroy our ranch... _


	5. Chapter 5

~CHAPTER 5~

"Hey, Charlie."

"Oh hi, Mr. Cartwright."

"Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Joe."

"Sorry, I never got used to callin' a person I work for by their first name," he chuckled. "What are you doin' out here anyway?"

"Just thought I'd come out and see how things were going," Joe answered as he draped a leg over the pommel of his saddle. "Don't want _this_ herd getting away from us."

"No, siree," Charlie replied.

"Charlie, I... I didn't get a chance to tell you before, but I just wanted to thank you for insisting on staying with us even though we might not be able to pay you regular wages for a while."

"Think nothin' of it Bos... Joe. You Cartwrights have always been good to me, and you couldn't have found a happier man alive when you offered me this foreman job."

"Yeah, but you also convinced some of the hands to stay too."

"They're good men, every one of 'em. Most of 'em were already decided before I even posed the idea."

"All of them have been with us for quite awhile, haven't they?"

"Yep."

After a slight hesitation Joe asked, "Charlie, I haven't been involved much as far as handing out assignments to the men, but didn't they all have off yesterday? Because I was in town for a bit, and I didn't see any of them. I thought they'd all welcome the day off. Usually they can't wait to get into town."

"Uh, well yes they did have off, but... every one of 'em decided to keep an eye on the rest of the herds. I reckon they know what a hard turn your family's had. Your Pa was always good to all of them... all of us. I guess this is our way of payin' 'im back."

Joe was touched by the devotion of their men and smiled before turning his paint around and heading back down the hill. As his body smoothly adjusted to the horse's steps on the rocky ground, his smile slowly turned into a frown as his forehead creased in thought. _Stop it,_ he scolded himself. _You heard what he said. Every one of them voluntarily decided to stay with the herd... but... where was he? Charlie failed to mention where he was at that time,_ he scoffed. _Do you really know what you're suggesting? You're getting paranoid, Joseph Cartwright. _Although, as Joe approached the main road that he would take to go home, the frown stayed, and almost unwillingly, he turned back to the herd. He had to find something out.

* * *

"Adam, there you are. Sorry to keep you waiting. Just had to take care of a drunk," Sheriff Coffee said as he put his ring of keys down on his desk.

"That's alright," Adam said walking over from the bulletin board where he had been observing 'Wanted' posters. "Drunk, huh?" Roy nodded. "New in town?"

"Nope, why do you ask?"

Adam sat down in the chair in front of Roy's desk, crossed his legs and took off his hat before answering. "Well, you won't believe this. The Ponderosa's payroll was stolen." Adam then told him what precious little he knew about the robbery.

After he was done, Roy put his pen down and sat back in his chair. "Well... I don't know what tuh say, Adam. It seems like one thing after another with your family. I'm sorry I haven't been able to do more, but there's been no other fires, rustlin's, or robberies anywhere else in the area, just at your place, and there wasn't enough evidence there to shake a stick at. Don't yuh see, I got nothin' to go on, yet. But hopefully the precautions you suggested we take'll turn up something soon," the two men shared a knowing look.

"I hope so, Roy. But after this last... incident," he grit his teeth as if he were sick to death of that word, "I'd... like you to check to see if any of our hands have any previous records worth noting."

"Now Adam, that would make sense havin' it be someone that close to the Ponderosa, but you really suspect one of your own hands?"

"I'm not saying that, Roy. I guess I just need to be sure," Adam felt completely helpless as he fidgeted in his chair. It used to be once a person earned his trust, it was pretty hard to shake it. He felt like these dire circumstances were turning him into something he didn't like. He kept trying to tell himself it was just a precaution, just looking at all the angles. There was a lot at stake, and he just needed to be sure.

"I understand. Well, I'll check 'em out for yuh and get what I find to yuh as soon as possible. You know, I've been meanin' tuh stop out at the house some evenin'. How are Hoss and Little Joe?"

"Oh, they're... as well as can be expected," Adam finished with a sigh. "Thanks for your time, Roy," he said, standing up.

"My pleasure, Adam," he replied, offering his hand.

They shook hands briefly before Adam turned, presumably to leave. His hand reached for the door when he stopped. "Roy?"

"Yeah, Adam?"

"You knew my father for a very long time. You were one of his oldest friends, as a matter of fact," he paused. He hated bringing up these unhappy memories. "Therefore you'd probably be pretty well acquainted with his dealings in the past. Do you know if anyone who might've had a grudge against him has been released or escaped from jail recently?" Adam knew it was a long shot, but he was desperate to find any sort of clue. "You see, originally I was thinking the landslide that killed my father was nothing more than an accident..."

"But now with all these other "accidents", you're not so sure," Roy's keen mind filled in Adam's sentence for him.

Adam raised his eyes to meet those of the kind Sheriff's and nodded slowly.

"Well, Adam, I'll keep my eyes open. If such a person did escape jail recently, though, I'm sure I'd be notified."

"Thanks, Roy. Oh, and Roy, you'll let me know if anything turns up with those bills?"

"Now Adam, you know I'll tell yuh the second anythin' turns up."

Adam wearily nodded again, and this time he did take his leave.

* * *

Hoss stepped up to the front door of the impressive farmhouse and gave it a hardy rap. The Triple 'T' was the last ranch he was checking today, and he was very glad of the fact. He was tired through and through, and the hit he took yesterday was giving him a headache today, and headaches with him resulted in only one thing, making him hungry... well, hungrier.

The front door opened to reveal the owner of the ranch, Tim Hackett. "Well howdy there, Hoss. Won't you come in?" he opened the door wider.

"No, no thank yuh, Mr. Hackett. I gotta be headin' back soon."

"Well, how are things at the ranch?"

"Uh, not too good. I reckon yuh heard about the rustlin'."

"Yes, yes I did. I'm sorry about that, Hoss. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, sir, thank yuh. I was just wonderin' if you'd seen anythin' suspicious around your own herds. My brother Adam said that seein's how rustlers usually don't stop with just one spread, he was wonderin' if anythin'd happened 'round here."

"No, Hoss. Everything's been fine around here. Pretty quiet, as a matter of fact." Sadness clouded Hackett's eyes as he continued, "I'm...I"m sorry about your father. As you know, I was away on business when it all happened, or else I would've been at the funeral. He was a good man, Hoss."

"The best," Hoss said quietly, nodding his head. "Thank yuh, sir. I best be headin' back now."

"If there's ever anything I can do, Hoss, you just let me know."

"Thank yuh, Mr. Hackett," Hoss said turning to his horse. _If there was somethin' you could do, I'm sure I wouldn't know what it is, _he thought dismally as he trotted Chubby out the front gate. _I hope Joe'n Adam haven't come up as empty as me. _


	6. Chapter 6

~CHAPTER 6~

Joe didn't even have to lift his head from its resting position on his arms to know that his brother Adam had gotten back from town. Sport's prancing gait was enough for his ears to make that determination on their own. He wasn't sure if he wanted his brother to spot him over by the corral fence behind the barn. All he wanted to do now was just think. So many thoughts were running wild in his mind that he needed to harness, and he wasn't sure if his brother would help or not. His boot was propped up on the bottom board of the fence and his arms criss-crossed on the top one, his chin resting on them comfortably. The hoofbeats disappeared inside the barn. After a minute or so, his ears picked up the sound of boots on the hard-packed ground, but he couldn't tell whether they were coming or going. Soon they stopped altogether. The edge of Joe's mouth turned upward in the tiniest of smirks. _Why, do I get the feeling... _he picked his head up from the top of the fence and turned it to see Adam leaning up against the corner of the barn, looking at him.

"You ok, Joe?"

"Yeah, I'm ok."

"How did things go today?"

"Oh, as fine as could be expected," he said with an edge to his words that he had not intended.

"It doesn't sound like it," Adam replied, walking over and putting his own foot up next to his brother's.

"Well, I went out to check up on the hands," Joe said turning his gaze away from his brother and out across the never-ending countryside.

"And?"

Joe did not respond right away. Adam stood patiently, leaning against the fence, not wanting to push Joe when he knew something was bothering him but knowing that he would reveal what it was in due time.

"I... I feel like I've betrayed them," he finally spoke. "Checking up on them like they were common criminals. They're our friends, every one of them, people we've trusted for years." He paused. "You know why we didn't see any of them yesterday? Because they all agreed to stay behind and watch the herd for us, all day. All of them were there and accounted for," Joe said harshly, acting more and more guilty as he spoke.

Adam turned toward his brother, "Well, Joe, you should be happy then. That means none of them are involved in any of this." Adam himself was quite relieved at the news, although not surprised, but he couldn't understand why his brother still seemed so disturbed.

Joe looked down at his hands, unconsciously picking apart a blade of grass as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Charlie wasn't there," he said softly as if his own words betrayed him. "No one knows where he was yesterday afternoon."

"How do you know he wasn't there?"

"Because I asked them!" he almost spat out the words, flinging the remaining bit of grass away from him. "After I talked to Charlie, just like we were old friends, not a doubt in the world, I went behind his back and asked the rest of the hands where _he_ had been," his breathing was coming quicker. "I know I have to be wrong. I know he can't have anything to do with this, but why won't my mind just accept that? What am I turning into, Adam... that I can't trust these people anymore? What did they do to take that away?"

Adam took a deep breath and chose his words carefully, knowing that Joe was suffering from more than just a guilty conscience. He looked over at his brother's pained and confused face, and doing something he realized, with regret, he hadn't done since the day of the funeral, put a comforting hand on his youngest sibling's shoulder. "Nothing, Joe. They didn't do anything. But... I know exactly how you feel. It's the circumstances... strange events that make people suspicious of others they would never normally question. We checked up on them more for their sake than for ours, though. Don't you see that?"

"I don't know," Joe said hanging his head. "I thought so at first, but now I just don't know anymore."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"Charlie's supposed to help me get lumber tomorrow. I'll... I'll try to talk to him then. See if I can find out where he was."

"Do you need help?"

Joe shook his head no.

"Hoss and I are always here if you need us. You know that." The warmth and softness of Adam's tone in that simple statement cut through Joe's worries and spread through him like the warmth a wool blanket gives. For some reason he had thought he'd been all alone in his troubles, but now he realized he wasn't. He knew that no matter what they lost, they would always be there for each other, and nothing would ever change that.

Not getting a response, Adam figured Joe needed some time to think for himself, so he turned to leave.

"Adam..." Joe called in a voice barely audible.

Adam stopped and turned back to his brother.

"...thanks."

Adam felt he didn't deserve Joe's gratitude. He should've been there more for his brother, for both of them actually. He vowed then and there that he would be, always.

Slowly, Adam turned and left his brother alone, letting the soothing sounds of nature keep him company now.

* * *

Joe hadn't been able to find a way of talking to Charlie by the time they left the next morning. What was he going to say, that he suspected him of stealing the payroll, and possibly rustling the cattle? Since Joe wasn't even sure he believed it himself, he didn't know how he was going to confront Charlie with anything**. ** Needless to say, as they rode for town the next morning, both men remained fairly uncommunicative. Several times Charlie glanced over at Joe trying to figure out why he would be so quiet because usually his boss was a pretty talkative fellow. He decided to put the blame on all of the pressure he knew him to be under and spent of his time on the way in scouring the hills for signs of possible trouble.

His fears were allayed, however, as they arrived in town with no trouble or occurrence. Stopping the horses in front of the lumber yard, Joe hopped down and walked inside. "Mr. Greenly?"

"Oh, Joe. I wasn't expecting you this early," the graying man said as he turned and looked over his spectacles at his customer. "I got your order out back. Bill'll show you where it is."

"Thank you," Joe replied, starting for the back room.

"Charlie," he heard Greenly call in greeting behind him.

"Hello, Mr. Greenly," Charlie answered nicely.

Just as Joe was through the back doorway he heard the storekeeper ask, "Still want that job, Charlie? Got it open for you."

Joe froze. Turning back, he peered through the crack in the door he had just come through. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but for some reason this conversation seemed all together too important to miss. He saw their foreman look around as if nervously searching for someone. Then, with a lowered voice that Joe could barely make out, he spoke to the store owner. "Yes, I would, but like I said it can't be very much. I'm still workin' for the Cartwrights."

"Oh, yes of course, but how are you gonna find time to be foreman for them and work another job at the same time?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll find a way. I've got to. My family needs the money. "

"Why? You've gotten along before."

"Things have changed," was all he responded with. "If I can have the job I'd be much obliged, Mr. Greenly."

"Of course, Charlie. Start whenever you want to and we'll figure out your exact times later."

Joe was sitting in the wagon after the lumber was loaded, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, thinking. _Could it really be that simple? Is that all it is? _The wagon jolted as Charlie jumped up beside him after making sure the last of the supplies were loaded. Reaching over, Joe released the brake before flipping the reins over the horses' backs and starting them on their trip back home.

It was as uneventful as the trip there until about halfway home when Joe suddenly looked over at Charlie and asked, "Charlie what were you doing the day you were supposed to have off?"

The question caught the foreman completely off guard. "What?" he stuttered.

Before he had time to say more, Joe continued. "You were looking for another job weren't you," he said without doubt.

Charlie looked a little sheepish and embarrassed as he responded, "Well yeah, I was, Joe. But I never intended to lea..."

"Charlie, why didn't you tell us?" Joe didn't ask it accusingly, as Charlie would've thought, but almost as if he were relieved and somewhat disappointed.

"Well, I... I don't rightly know. I guess I didn't want you thinkin' I was runnin' out on you just because you're havin' some problems."

Joe nodded his head slowly. "You never have to worry about that, Charlie, but thanks. You don't know how much that means to me." _You really don't, _he added softly to himself. To Joe, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Adam was right; their friends hadn't done anything. The circumstances that made him think and act the way he did, but never again. He would never get caught like that again. Joe straightened his shoulders. Even in these troubling times, it was a comfort to know they had friends around them that they could trust whole-heartedly. Flicking the reins, Joe set the horses into a livelier gait home.

Little did either of them know that as they were yet driving, a pair of watchful eyes gazed down at them from one of the tall rocks above. The lone figure silently followed them along the ridge until he knew they were undoubtedly going to the Ponderosa. He patted his mount with a hand stiff from cold before tucking it back inside his jacket for warmth. The length of his turn of watching had drained all the warmth from him, and he wished he could go into town for a refreshing drink that would burn its way down his throat and warm his insides. It'd been far too long since he'd been able to indulge in the pleasure. The thought of a drink was altogether too tempting, and he turned his horse around and headed for town. "I got me plenty of money now," he said with a vindictive chuckle.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you very much for all of the reviews! I hope you enjoy this next chapter and sorry for the slight delay in posting.

~CHAPTER 7~

Hop Sing's capable fingers worked quickly and methodically through the dough he was preparing, having had years to perfect his method. _Mr. Cartlight sons velly tiyed, _ he thought to himself. _Hop Sing make special supper for them. _He slowed in his preparation, thinking of how he was only serving three instead of four now. He had been affected as much as anyone by his employer's sudden death. Having been with him for so many years, he almost didn't consider himself as an employee, but more like part of the family. He had watched the boys grow up into fine upright men, and it wasn't easy for him to watch them try to ease their present heartache. And especially with all of these terrible things happening to the ranch at the worst possible time, he decided to try and make them forget about their troubles with the more than delicious dinner that he would serve them tonight. His mind went back to the dough in his small hands, and he renewed his mixing once again. "Lil' Joe come back from town soon, and Mistuh Adam and Mistuh Hoss come back from lange. Must have food leddy."

The three Cartwrights _were_ tired that night, both physically and mentally. Hop Sing's exquisite dinner did exactly what he had hoped; it made them forget about their troubles for the time being, and all three of them dug in with an appetite that pleased the little cook immensely.

"That was excellent, Hop Sing. I sure do thank yuh," Hoss commented after the meal was done and the three of them were standing up to take their coffee and relax in front of the fire. Adam and Joe immediately added their own praises on the delicious meal.

Hop Sing smiled, not at the prospect of having created such a fine feast, but in achieving a smile on each of "his boys'" faces, for he knew they were scarce these days. As he started clearing away the dining table, the three of them made their way into the great room, Joe taking the big red chair which his father had most often occupied while Hoss took the settee. Adam grasped the poker and started shifting the logs to get the fire roaring once again.

"Dadburn, I swear this is the coldest it's gotten this early fer as long as I can remember," Hoss commented, sitting forward to capture more heat emanating from the orange threads of rekindled flame.

"I won't argue with you there," Adam replied, hanging the poker back up and sitting down in his customary high-backed blue chair. As if on cue, the wind picked up outside, reminding them all that tonight was a perfect night to stay in front of the fire. The three of them remained silent for some time, quietly sipping their warming coffee while listening to the loud crackling of the hot embers.

"I uh... talked to Charlie today. It turns out when we were bringing the payroll back he was in town asking about a second job."

As soon as Joe had spoken the words, he looked up quickly, his eyes meeting those of his brother's, and one of those warm hazel eyes winked its understanding of Joe's relief. A warming smile came to Joe's lips, and he turned his gaze back to the flame once again.

"Hoss, you said all of the other major ranches hadn't seen anything in their own herds?" Adam asked, trying to reaffirm all the facts in his mind.

Hoss shook his head. His brow furrowed before stating, "Adam, I just don't see who else could be doin' this. Now, I never thought it was one of our own men, mind yuh, but it seems like we're back at square one now."

"I know," Adam said quietly, thoughtfully.

Silence reigned once again for some time. Even though it was quite an absurd question, Hoss felt he had to ask it, "Adam... are we really expected tuh believe that all these things... are just coincidences?"

Joe brought his head up at the question and looked at his brother intently. Neither one was expecting an answer, but the question had been on both of their minds for quite some time and both were glad that it had finally been posed.

Adam slowly took a sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving the flickering firelight. He appeared to have not even heard him, but his brothers knew better and continued to stare. Finally, he answered the question with another question, "Are you suggesting... that these calamities are _not_ just mere coincidences?" It was a very obvious question, but one that affected everything depending on its answer.

Joe nodded in agreement, and Hoss said, "I don't reckon how it can be anythin' else, Adam. These incidents seem to be aimed square at us. Like I done told yuh, there ain't been nothin' else goin' on anywhere 'round here."

Adam then took the matter more to the heart of things. "Would you include Pa's death in that list of non-coincidences?" he asked softly.

Neither Joe nor Hoss had allowed themselves to even consider that possibility, but now they couldn't help but see the connection, which would mean that their Pa could have been... murdered.

There was a period of more silence as that thought was allowed to sink in. Adam slowly brought his head up and looked at his siblings. "To answer your question, Hoss, if one person is indeed behind all this, then one thing would have to be true of that pers..." Adam's sentence was broken off by the sound of a horse galloping into the ranch yard. Abandoning his train of thought, Adam quickly got up from his chair to see who it was. Not too many people would venture out this late, and even fewer would come in this weather. Even Hop Sing came out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron, wanting to see who it could be. Adam hadn't even made it to the door when an intense knocking came from the other side of it. He hurriedly opened it to reveal Roy standing on the doorstep, his hair sticking out in disarray from under his hat and his slicker fastened tightly around him.

"Roy!" Adam exclaimed in bewilderment, holding the door open wide to let in the cold man.

Seeing the honorable sheriff stiff from the cold, Hop Sing hurried back to his kitchen to start another pot of coffee.

"Howdy, Roy. What brings you out here in this weather?" Hoss asked, as he and Little Joe came to stand beside him, their wonderment at Adam's statement allayed for the moment by the sheriff's hasty and surprising arrival.

"Adam. Hoss. Joe," Roy said, acknowledging each one of them while taking off his hat and rubbing his raw hands together, whether to get rid of the cold or in anticipation, none of them could tell. He looked like he'd burst with his precious news. In all this time, these poor men, his dear friends, hadn't had a spark of hope to see them through, not a ray of evidence to go by. But they did now!

He turned to Adam eagerly and announced, "Adam, your precaution worked! We found some of the payroll money!"

* * *

"It's colder than a metal harness in January out there," a man looking quite frozen declared, entering the cave for the fourth time since his watch started. "I barely get out there before I hafta to come back in 'n thaw my hands out."

"Oh, quit your complaining," a second man said stirring up the fire, around which he and the rest were gratefully sitting. "At least you don't have to be out like Sam does. Must be pretty near frozen by now."

The rest of the men scattered around grunted in agreement. "Where is ol' Sam, anyway? Shouldn't he have been back by now?" a third spoke up. "All's he had to do was watch that Cartwright pup back to the ranch."

"How should I know what's keepin' him?" the guard grumbled irritably, not enjoying the prospect of leaving the warming fire again. "All I want to know is what our next move's gonna be. That last one went off so well, I'm just itchin' fer another," he said, a smile forming to some degree on his chilled lips.

"I don't know," the second of the men spoke up, poking the fire. "Whatever the boss says, that's what we'll do."

"Boss's got this well planned, I think," a fourth, sitting in the corner said.

"And why shouldn't he? He's got old dead man Cartwright's information to go by," the leader replied with a wry chuckle that was seconded by all the other men in the cave.

"Yep, he's sure got..." he was cut off by the sound of footsteps approaching the mouth of the cave. The second man motioned for the fire to be smothered, and the guard to go over by the entrance, ready for whoever it might be. The steps came closer and closer, heading straight for the cave...


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully this chapter will reward you all as a big plot twist lies in store.

~CHAPTER 8~

"How?" Adam asked quickly.

"About two hours ago, I was makin' my rounds at the main stores and saloons, and my last stop was the Sazarac. And there it was, pretty as you please, a marked fifty dollar bill. Cosmo even remembered the feller that gave it to 'im. Came in late this afternoon."

"Adam, what's he talkin' about? What marked bills?" Joe asked, confused.

"It was just a hunch, Joe. You see, after the fire and the rustling, I didn't want to take a chance with the payroll. I didn't know if they were all connected and since it was such a large one, I thought it'd be a good idea to take some precautions. I didn't tell you or Hoss about it because it was a long shot that it would even get stolen at all, but after it did, I didn't want to get your hopes up if we weren't able to track it down."

As Adam was working through his explanation, a grin slowly spread across Hoss's face. After he finished, the pieces fit together perfectly. "So, that's why yuh had all the money in large bills; so's they'd be easier tuh trace. And yuh sent word to have the bank mark 'em?"

Adam nodded before turning back to Roy. "Did Cosmo recognize the man at all?"

Roy shook his head regretfully. "No," he said, pressing his fingertips together in thought. "Said he'd never seen him before in his life. He just ordered and paid for a bottle, sat down in one of the corners and drank almost the whole thing before leavin' again. What really made him stick in his mind was payin' with such a large bill."

Adam nodded. "Well, at least it's something."

"Cos did give me a real good description of the feller, though." He then began telling the intent listeners the description of the man: his approximate height, the presence and length of facial hair, and even his clothes, after which all of them agreed they'd never seen the stranger either. "I told you I'd let you know the minute anythin' came up. Silly old coot that I am, I got downright crazy when I saw that marked bill," he laughed. "I reckon you'll wanna come in tomorrow mornin' and ask Cosmo some questions yuhself."

Adam nodded. "Yes, we would. Thank you for coming to tell us, Roy."

The old lawman looked down at his boots. _As if they need to thank me for doing so little. _"Just doin' my job, Adam. But I'll be headin' back now."

"But you can't head back tonight," Adam said, hearing the wind pick up even more. "The weather's far too bad to try'n make it back. We'll put your horse up and be delighted if you'd stay here the night."

Roy seemed reluctant, but decided it would be best to take Adam up on his considerate offer. "Alright, I will. Thank yuh kindly," he agreed smiling before following Hoss over to the settee while Adam and Joe put on their coats and left to take care of his mount. "Ah, thank yuh, Hop Sing," he said, gratefully accepting a steaming cup of coffee.

* * *

Standing guard by the cave entrance, Jesse raised his gun as the irregular-sounding footfalls approached. Suddenly, a thin figure stumbled from the darkness into view, and Jesse slowly eased the rifle away from his cheek. "What in tarnation are you doin', Sam? Why didn't you give the countersign?" he asked. "Where have you been? You're late."

"Oh, just 'round," Sam said, a slight slur to his voice. "That Cartwright kid went home, just like I said 'e would."

As he swayed past him, Jesse could smell the unmistakable odor of whiskey waft from the man. "Hey, where'd yuh get the booze, Sam?" he asked, his face lighting up at the prospect of getting a little nip on such a cold night.

"Saloon," was all the reply he got, but that little bit was enough to make every other man in the cave stop with bewilderment and concern on their faces, not for themselves but for the foolish man who dared go against the boss's orders.

Hank came up to him, and roughly took him by his coat front, "You stupid fool. Boss said nobody was to go into town," he said harshly, his voice low so it wouldn't carry over into the adjoining passageway where a light was burning. But apparently, he hadn't kept it low enough.

"That's right... that's what I said..." a voice sounded from the deep passageway of the cave.

They quickly turned and saw a black figure silhouetted against the dim lamplight. Just the sound of the grave and unemotional voice echoing through the shadows sent a chill up the men's spines.

Sam turned to the shadow, emboldened by the booze. "Listen, Boss," his speech slurred. "We've been up here fer over two months and not in that whole time have we had a shot a whiskey. Today I had enough, and all I did was go in town and get me a coupla drinks. Now whus wrong with that?"

There was no reply.

Sam continued. "All I did was get a drink. I didn't go nowhere else, just tuh the saloon," he stopped to belch before continuing. "'N' everybody goes through the saloon. I'm no different."

Silence once again.

He was beginning to think he'd been forgiven when he heard the voice speak again, "Where'd you get the money for it?"

The men turned back to Sam, who began acting a little squeamish. Sam kept trying to tell himself he had done nothing wrong; it was his money anyway. They were going to split it up, that was the deal. They just hadn't yet. "Well, Boss... it was some a the money from that last job we pulled," he answered matter-of-factly, his voice raising slightly.

The dark figure came a little closer letting the firelight fall over his face, but his face alone. The man's head was almost completely gray with some scattered black still remaining. The stone black eyes never wavered as he began to speak again, the scar on his cheek moving with his words. "You took some of the payroll money... into town." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement encompassing all of the ways Sam had violated orders, and the accused man could feel sweat start to tingle his palms and back.

Trying to come to his own defense, he started, "Boss, it was just one little drink. Maybe I shouldn'ta..." he was never able to finish his sentence as a shot rang out from the silhouette, and Sam fell to the floor of the cave, dead, blood trickling from a bullet wound to his upper chest.

The men in the cave jumped at the loud noise in such close quarters and looked into the darkness to see a smoking gun being put back into its holster. Speechless, all the men gazed at the dead man. They knew the Boss would not tolerate any departure from orders, but they never imagined he'd go as far as killing a man for it. Up until this point he had been so steady and predictable, but now he seemed almost obsessed with his mission. They caught a sign of this with the cattle incident, with the waste of that valuable herd, but to kill one of their own? The only thing that was still attaching them to the man was their greed, greed to get a share of the great Ponderosa. Sam may have been foolish for what he did, but they knew he would never have done such a foolish thing if he knew what the consequences would be. Now he'd never have the chance to make that, or any other mistake, again.

The Boss then left the passageway and entered the main cavern. He looked at the lifeless figure before him and stood gazing at it for quite some time, his amazingly keen mind already deciding the best way to use this turn of events to his advantage. Having made his decision, he turned to Hank. "Take the gun and empty his pockets. Put the body on the side of the main road, south, outside of Virginia City."

Hank understood the boss's idea and couldn't help but marvel at the ingenious plan. Make it look like a simple robbery, and if anyone recognized him as the man in the saloon, so much the better. He silently nodded.

Without another word, the leader disappeared into the adjoining room from which he came. This one was much smaller, but suited his needs perfectly. On his way over to his makeshift desk, he passed the all-too familiar figure huddled on a dirty blanket in the corner, manacles encompassing his wrists and the chain attached to a ring thrust deep into the solid rock wall. The prisoner's eyes followed the man across the room and continued to look at him as he took his seat at the worn desk once again.

_I can't believe he shot one of his own men._ He had heard everything that happened in the adjoining alcove, and he was filled with despair over the present situation. He had been hoping that there would be some mishap that would hopefully lead someone to his discovery, but that hope was dwindling. _He seems to have thought of everything, accounted for everything._ All this incident proved was that this hateful man wouldn't let anything come between him and his revenge. He couldn't tell if his shivering was due to the cold dampness he'd been enduring or the barbaric display he had just witnessed, but he knew that the returning tears that stung his eyes were from the vicious and heartless part he was forced to play in this man's diabolical scheme.

Looking back at the cold-blooded killer, Ben Cartwright warned, "You'll never get away with this."


	9. Chapter 9

Here's a bit of a longer chapter for you. Once again, thank you so much for the reviews! :) They're always fun to read.

~CHAPTER 9~

A thin layer of frost coated the ground next morning as Joe and Hoss bundled up and left the comforts of a warm house to saddle the horses. They had all eaten breakfast early so they could get into town as soon as possible. Not that there was really any great need to rush, but all of them had been looking for a break in the whereabouts of their assailants, and now that there was one, they didn't want to lose any time in tracking it down.

Shortly the rest of the party appeared, Adam pulling the collar of his tan coat tighter and squinting at the bright sun in his eyes as Roy shrugged the rest of the way into his slicker. Although the sun was shining for the first time in days, steam could still be seen with each and every breath they took, the air bitterly cold.

The horses were led out of the barn and in short order everyone was mounted and ready to ride. The tension and excitement shared by the four men made the mounts skittish. The soon let out the reins and gave the horses their heads as they galloped down the road, the only sound coming from the hollow pound of hooves as the four horses flew across the ground, nostrils flared and tails and manes whipping with their speed. Not a single word was exchanged between the men as they sped toward Virginia City.

They had slowed their mounts to an easy trot and were still about a half hour away from town when they were brought to a sudden stop by the youngest member. "Hold it!" Joe called out as he quickly brought Cochise to a sudden stop. He had been riding on the outside when something black in the undergrowth beside the road caught his eye. Roy, Adam, and Hoss immediately pulled up as Joe dismounted and eased his way into the ditch. As he approached, he realized the black object was a man's boot. Joe knelt and parted the undergrowth with his gloved hand as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

"What is it, Joe?" Hoss asked.

"A dead man," Joe responded grimly as he took in the sight of a stranger laying face down in the ditch, devoid of any life. All three of his companions immediately dismounted and came up beside him. Hoss took the man's legs and Joe his arms as the two lifted him onto the road, the body completely rigid from cold and rigor mortis.

There was no question as to the cause of death; the man's entire shirt front was stained a rusty brown and there was a black bullet hole in the man's upper left chest and a matching one in his back. As Roy glanced over the body a frown furrowed his brow, and he put his hand under his slicker to retrieve a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. After studying it for several seconds, he knelt and started searching the man's pockets.

"What is it?" Joe asked.

After his quick search was complete, Roy looked up. "Joe, I hope to goodness I'm wrong, but this body fits the description Cosmo gave me of the man that passed the payroll money."

Joe glanced quickly to his thunderstruck brothers before turning back to Roy, his face tense. "Are you sure? Look, it could be someone else."

"I'm not sayin' fer sure that he is, but the only way we're gonna find that out is tuh take him back to town and let Cosmo take a look at 'im. If this is him, it looks like he was robbed, because not a bit of the payroll's on him. In fact, there's nothin' on him."

Right after Roy's possible identification, Adam had jumped down into the ditch where the man was found and started searching around intently.

Without a word, Hoss grasped the man by the belt and with help from Joe, hauled him onto his horse before covering him with his slicker, none of them keen on seeing the body any longer.

Adam continued to gaze at the ground even as Roy slipped into the ditch beside him. "Find anything, Adam?"

Adam stood up from his crouched position and said slowly, "It's what I haven't found that interests me."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking around himself.

Adam pursed his lips for several seconds in thought before looking up at the Sheriff. "You saw the bullet wound. Looks like he lost quite a bit of blood."

"That's right. Entered his chest, tore through and came out his back. Poor brute couldn't have lasted long," Roy replied.

"And we know the wound bled a lot from the condition of his shirt, but the ground underneath the body is dry," Adam speculated, pointing to the flattened patch of grass where the body had lain for who knew how long.

Roy knelt to get a closer look while Adam continued, speaking his thoughts aloud. "If it was robbery, why move the body, and especially to a place where people would be more likely to find it?"

Roy stood, rubbing his chin with a gloved hand as he considered Adam's logic. "Well Adam, you sure pose mighty interesting questions. It doesn't look like there's a drop of blood anywhere around here."

Hoss and Joe, talking between themselves, quieted when they overheard Adam's revealing information. "Well, if this is the guy, maybe somebody in the saloon saw him passing that bill and figured there was more to be had," Joe suggested.

Adam turned to his brother, "But why move the body, and why to the side of a main road?"

"Anything we could figure out now would just be a guessin' game," Hoss speculated.

"Hoss is right. We gotta get the body back to town to find out if it really is our man," Roy quickly brought the discussion to an end. Climbing out of the ditch, he motioned for them to mount up so they could hurry on to Virginia City.

As they started out once more, a thought kept churning in Adam's head. _If this was the man that passed the money, he might have given a better clue dead than alive…_

* * *

They arrived in town forty minutes later and headed straight for the Sazarac. As they rode through the streets, heads turned and hushed whispers were heard behind them as town's folk stopped in their busy meanderings to stare at the Cartwrights and Sheriff Coffee coming into town with the chilling shape of a covered body slung over one of their saddles. As they stopped outside the saloon and Roy dismounted and entered the establishment, a curious crowd assembled around the others. The other three had dismounted, and Hoss and Joe were keeping the onlookers at bay. Soon the doors swung back and Roy stepped through them with Cosmo in tow. Stepping over to Hoss's mount, he lifted the front of the slicker to reveal the dead man's face. "Well? Is it him?" he asked, looking back at the bartender.

Without a second's hesitation, Cosmo responded, "Yes, that's him, Sheriff. He's the one that passed that bill you were asking about. What happened to him?"

The three Cartwrights heaved a silent, collective sigh as the all-important question had finally been answered.

"We're not really sure, Cosmo. But all we needed from you was a positive identification. Now that we have it, we won't be takin' up any more of your time."

Not one to be affected by the sight of a corpse because he'd seen many in his line of work, Cosmo nodded and wiped his hands on his apron as he walked back into his saloon. Roy once again covered the dead man's head and turned around to be met by the curious eyes of the spectators. "Come on. Break it up, folks. There's nothin' tuh see here," he said, motioning for the lingerers to move on. "Come on over to my office, boys," he spoke to his companions in a hushed tone.

They soon made their way over to the jailhouse where Hoss transported the body inside and laid it on a bunk in one of the cells before coming back to join the others around Roy's desk. Roy was already busy looking through file after file on his desk, while Hoss sat down in the chair, and Joe perched on the edge of it. Adam removed his hat and twirled it in his hands as he leaned up against the cabinet, all the while observing their Sheriff. They knew Roy could be a little messy and at times got too busy to clean his own office, but the amount of paperwork covering his desk now was far more than usual. "Roy, do you mind tellin' us what you're lookin' fer?" Hoss asked after a minute of letting the older man comb through several stacks of papers and every time flinging them aside in disgust to create another toppling pile.

Roy looked up over his glasses at Hoss. "I'm lookin' for that man's file."

Adam's eyebrows knit in confusion, "You mean, you know who he is?"

Roy looked at the other brother. "I'm not a hundred percent sure. I went through so many of these things yesterday, I felt like my eyes would fall right outta my head, but I do recall one that might've," he paused, holding up his finger for effect, " just might've, fit our body in there." The brothers then seemed to take a keener interest in Roy's arduous activities and huddled around the desk to observe the man's work more closely.

"Roy, how'd you get all of these files?" Adam asked incredulously.

"They're the ones you asked for when you wanted to know if anybody that mighta had a score to settle with your Pa had been released or escaped from jail recently." The elderly man grinned a bit sheepishly as he continued, "Well... I mighta gone just a bit overboard, and ordered all the files from all the state prisons and penitentiaries of all the land your Pa even mighta covered from here to Boston."

Adam gazed at the countless records again, and couldn't help but be touched by the good Sheriff's willingness and devotion in helping his family. Joe, standing behind Roy's chair, placed a grateful hand on the older man's shoulder, although the benefactor didn't even seem to notice, for just then he appeared to find the sought after papers. "Aha... I think I found it," he suddenly exclaimed. Hoss by now had moved to the corner of Roy's desk and looked hopefully at the piece of paper in his hands. The suspense was heavy in the air as the three waited for possible affirmation of their stranger's identity. "Yep, this is him alright. No wonder I remembered it; even had a 'Wanted' poster of him," he said, handing it to the eager hands. "His name's Samuel Chapman. Sound familiar to any of you?" he asked, to which three heads were shaken no. "He was arrested for robbery and sentenced to a five-year sentence in an Illinois Prison, served four, released in April of this year for good behavior."

"April? That was only five months ago," Joe stated surprised.

"All the way from Illinois... this feller musta hit the road pretty soon after he got outta jail," Hoss stated the fact aloud.

Roy nodded. "It would seem like this feller somehow knew your Pa, or was acquainted with somebody that did. Why else would he take off to hit a ranch halfway across the country right after gettin' outta prison?" He shook his head in disgust, tired of seeing this time and time again in his career; countless people hitting the life of crime right after being released from jail, not even trying to make an honest life for themselves in the world but resorting to their old ways, apparently a good chunk of their lives spent in jail meaning nothing to them. He looked up after several moments of deep thought. "Adam, I know you was just a lad when your Pa was comin' through Illinois, but do you think you could remember anything or anybody from there that mighta had something against him?"

Adam sighed heavily as his brow furrowed in concentration, and he put his hands on his hips, making his jacket bunch up in the back. "Roy, I'm not sure. I was probably around five at the time. I don't think I can remember much from then," he said reluctantly, frustrated at having his memory be a loose connection in possibly finding another link in the intricate web of clues spinning out before them.

Roy nodded understandingly. "I understand that, Adam. In fact, I'da been a might surprised if you _had_ remembered anything," he consoled, trying to relieve some of the guilt he could clearly see written on Adam's face at not being able to remember something that could help.

Everyone remained quiet for several moments, the uneasy silence finally ending with Adam's statement, "Roy, I'm almost positive that man wasn't robbed, that his body was placed there deliberately, maybe even for our benefit."

Roy eased back in his chair, taking off his glasses and chewing on one of the stems. "Because of the lack of blood near the body," he finished, to which Adam nodded.

"What do you mean 'for our benefit'?" Joe asked, having an idea of what his brother meant, but wanting it clarified.

Adam rubbed a hand over his mouth. "His body there would signify a robbery taking place, especially if the man was identified as having a significant amount of money on him. You said, maybe someone from the saloon saw him with it."

Joe nodded, urging Adam to continue.

"But the fact that there was no blood means that he was placed there, definitely not shot there."

"The only logical people to have done that would be his accomplices," Roy said.

"And we know he probably had accomplices, cause any one of those jobs woulda taken a lot more than just one man to pull off," Hoss spoke up.

"Exactly," Adam continued. "My guess is that this Sam Chapman was killed by his partners, maybe because he passed some of the payroll money."

"Now let's not start sayin' 'he was'. We barely have any information to go off on, and we can't start makin' theories be facts." Roy clarified. "We don't even know for sure if this fellar had any accomplices."

As Roy, Adam and Joe talked on about Adam's theories, Hoss stood and with hands in his pockets, silently made his way for the back cell where the dead man lay, needing to think by himself a while and leaving the fancy talk to his brothers and Roy. He stopped for several seconds in the doorway of the cell and stared, his eyes as cold as the body upon which he was gazing. Thinking that man might have been, at one point in time, one of the people responsible for causing so much damage to his home and family made the giant man's blood boil. His eyes finally diverted from the sickening sight, and he was about to leave when something caught in the cold rays of weak sunlight coming through the barred window caught his eye. As he held his head low, his blue eyes focused on the dead man's boots caught in the cold light. He noticed with curiosity a pale orange dirt jammed in to the stitching and creases of his boots. Taking out his jackknife, he scraped some of the dusty surface mud off to reveal a clay-like orange dirt, definitely not of the type to be found around there. However, for some reason that orange dirt looked unsettlingly familiar. Wracking his brain to come up with the solution, he suddenly grasped the answer that had annoyingly been eluding his grasp.

"Hey, Adam, Joe, Roy! Come in here, I think I found somethin'!" he hollered into the other room where the conversation suddenly ceased, being replaced with rushed footsteps.


	10. Chapter 10

_I wanted to apologize for a similarity between the orange dust development of this story and a later Bonanza episode. Apparently there was an episode where the appearance of dust on a man's boots was a clue to a mystery, but I hadn't seen that episode when I wrote this._

_That's happened to me a couple times actually! I've written a story and then found out later on that it was in an episode that I hadn't seen yet. lol But yeah, I didn't want you thinking that I intentionally stole from one of the shows. Any part of my story that's that close to an episode is coincidental. ;) Anyway, on with the story!_

Thank you as always for reviewing! I've been out of the story loop for quite a while so it's fun reading them again. :) 

* * *

~CHAPTER 10~

Joe was the first to appear in the doorway, hope in eyes as his brother who motioned them all inside the cell. "What is it, Hoss?" he asked eagerly.

"Take a look at this," Hoss said as he pulled out his jackknife and chipped away some more of the orange dirt.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked, coming into the cell and frowning at the mess the big man was making of the floor. Adam chose to take a place of quiet observation leaning up against the jail cell door.

"I got me an idea," Hoss said as he flaked off more of the dried mud. Grabbing a big chunk, he rolled it over in his hand a few times to knock away the mud reveal the orange chalklike substance underneath. Smiling at his discovery, he turned his attention to his younger brother who now beside him. "Joe, you recognize this dirt?"

Joe shook his head no, not seeing how he could possibly recognize it.

"Remember when you and me went huntin' last year? That big buck took us all the way up near Chimney Rock?"

Joe nodded.

"Remember that canyon he led us through, that one hidden way up in them mountains, in that far corner of our property?"

Joe nodded again, this time finding the connection his brother was aiming for. "Of course! Hoss, you really think it's the same?"

Hoss then turned to the Sheriff. "Roy, the only place I've ever found this type of colored dirt is in a canyon way up in the North section of our hills. We don't hardly ever get up that far ceptin' when Joe and me was chasin' that buck. There was this tiny canyon up there I never remembered seein' before, but I sure as shootin' knew I was never gonna forget it. The whole dadburn place was covered with this orange dust and dirt. Sticks to yuh like glue. Took us a month o' Sundays to get it outta our clothes."

"Hop Sing was screaming mad at us for days after we accidentally tracked it in the house," Joe smiled at the reminiscent thought.

"Hoss, are you absolutely sure?" Adam asked as he stood straighter.

"Adam, I ain't never been more sure of anythin' before."

Not doubting his brother for a second, Adam continued the progression of thought that was undoubtedly going on in all their minds. "Then some time recently this Sam Chapman was at that canyon. Supposing he has accomplices" he looked pointedly at Roy, "that just might be where their camp is located. If they know as much about the Ponderosa as they seem to, they might also know we rarely ever go up there."

Joe put his hands on his hips, ready to ride. "Well, let's go then."

Hoss dropped the pieces of dirt and brushed his hands as the three of them headed for the front door. Roy suddenly called out, stopping them short.

"Now boys wait a minute, supposin' you're right about the dirt'n all. You go up there, figurin' Chapman does have accomplices and that's where their hideout is? I can't let you go up there, not without me. It's too dangerous. And I can't leave the body."

The three Cartwrights had the same answer on their tongues, but Adam was the first to voice it. "Roy, it's on our property, and with or without you we're going up there." Adam was instantly regretful of his harsh tone, especially after all that Roy had done for them. But there was nothing that was going to stop them now that they might be _this_ close. His voice softened as he could see the look of helplessness riddling the Sheriff's face. "I'm sorry, Roy... we _have_ to." The last few heartfelt words were felt by everyone in the room. Spoken with so much hidden emotion, their meaning was inescapable and encompassed everything the three of them had been through. But what everyone caught in Adam's voice was a resilient hope of finding all the answers they so eagerly sought.

Roy could all too easily see the same tired, anxious look in their eyes, a look only brought on by months of sorrow, disappointment, worry and fatigue, and for the first time it seemed as if he truly... truly understood everything those men, whom he regarded almost as sons, had been through. He had nothing more to say but an anxious and somewhat fatherly, "Be careful, boys."

* * *

Although the sun was at its pinnacle, the clouds had blanketed the sky once again, making the air damp and even more chilling as the three started out from the jail. Upon leaving the town, they headed southwest and toward the upper left tip of the Ponderosa. They knew it'd be a long hard ride up into country usually uninhabited year round. As was every bit of their property, it was quite beautiful country, but the section they were riding for was rarely used because of its inaccessibility. Among tall mountains and rocky terrain wasn't the best spot to do many of the operations of the Ponderosa. Since so few people ever traversed its hills they hadn't even seen fit to put a line shack up there, which was why it was all the more shocking to find that this man had possibly been up there. They rode for several hours, sometimes taking as much as half an hour to cover one small stretch of terrain. Hoss had led the way with Little Joe riding second, and Adam bringing up the rear in case Joe's little paint were to slip. Hoss had some difficulty remembering where the canyon was, for he had only ever been there once, but they only had to turn back and follow some different route a couple of times, not adding even fifteen minutes to their journey.

Mid-afternoon, with horses and riders worn out, found them close to their destination. Hoss held up slightly, motioning that the canyon they sought was just over the next rise. The three dismounted and ground-staked their horses as they continued on foot. Joe and Hoss drew their guns as Adam rested a hand on the hilt of his, having released the safety catch some time ago. As they approached, the stillness of the cold afternoon was suddenly broken by the distant screeching of birds of prey... many birds of prey. Looking up, they could see countless vultures circling above what seemed to be the very canyon for which they themselves were headed. The sight of so many buzzards and knowing what they represented sent shafts of uneasiness down the men's backs and made all of them want to look over their shoulders with added trepidation. Easing their way forward again, they pushed on through the undergrowth, and with every step they could see the orange dirt that had brought them there become increasingly more abundant on the ground and surrounding rock. They reached the edge of the flora where the brush would no longer shield them from unwelcome eyes, if such eyes there were. Adam motioned for his brothers to cover him as he lay on the ground and crept toward the edge of the canyon, silently drawing his gun. Hoss and Joe held their breaths as they knelt in the foliage and watched their brother crawl closer and closer to the edge. Joe bobbed his leg nervously as he scanned the rock faces for unexpected faces.

Adam reached the edge and stopped, motionless. He didn't utter a sound, only gazed downward. Hoss and Joe began to think something was wrong with him. Why was he just lying there? What was he seeing? Not being able to control his curiosity any longer, Hoss was about to go out in the open when Adam got to his feet and slowly replaced his gun in its holster, no threat or worry evident in his actions. Still skeptical of their surroundings, the two brothers cautiously came up behind him. It was all for naught, however, as they reached the edge and stopped in their tracks by what greeted their eyes... and noses. Hoss couldn't understand what he was seeing, why he was seeing it. Joe felt nauseous as he looked away from the horrible sight in the hopes of saving his meager lunch eaten on the ride up. Down below in the canyon of orange rock were the three hundred head of cattle rustled from them... dead and heaped upon one another at the bottom, the remains of the carcasses mostly ravaged and torn apart by the fowls still circling overhead**. **The torn and withering hide of one that hadn't fallen completely to the bottom clearly showed the mark of the Ponderosa brand. Had it been only a week ago that these same cattle had been stolen from them? And now they were dead, undoubtedly stampeded over the edge of the steep canyon to fall to their intended deaths.

Surprisingly, the first one to break the silence was Hoss, whose heart had always been tuned to the living creatures on the ranch, many of which he had delivered, branded, raised and now saw lying dead below them. "I don't get it, Adam. Why?" the big man asked softly, not understanding the harsh and total waste of life before him. "Why would anyone do this? What does it mean?"

"It means, Hoss," Adam started, his voice gravelly with the weight of a sickened heart, "whoever is doing this... isn't interested in money."

"But why then?" Joe asked gruffly, coming back around to face his brothers, his voice edged with rage and disgust. "Why go to all the trouble to rustle an entire herd just to slaughter them this way?"

"I don't know," Adam replied quietly, his mind already calculating the pros and cons of such an act and only coming up with the latter.

In the heat of frustration, without warning Joe drew his gun and shot at one of the cawing vultures, sending a bullet right through its body and bringing it tumbling down to earth. The explosion of the gun scattered the others, but it was only a short time before they congregated once again to feast on their abundant bounty. Hoss and Adam could understand why their brother did it. Utter frustration, anger, disappointment and disgust were equally felt by all.

Joe had just holstered his gun when a voice came from the brush. "Why do you come?" The unexpected sound caused them to turn in surprise and reach for their guns again, but the action did little to shock the lone Indian who now stood behind them, his red face as hard as if it were chiseled from rock. He had appeared from nowhere, his moccasined feet hardly made a sound on the hard ground.

Adam recognized him as Wavoka, one of the many tribal leaders of the Paiute nation. Wavoka was a personal friend of the family's and saw many issues the same as the Cartwrights. Unlike many young braves he was never one intent to start wars and altercations, but sought the well-being of all by resorting to peaceful means if at all possible. He was also quite intelligent and had learned to speak English with great ease. They had known him for years.

Recovering from the shock of seeing him there, Adam finally found his tongue and answered, "Greetings, Wavoka. This is our land."

Appearing to not even hear him, the Indian walked to the edge of the canyon. "Cartwrights of this land have always had love for life, much like we Paiute." He then turned to look at Adam, confusion in his eyes, "And yet, you do this," he said, as he waved his hand out toward the canyon.

"Wavoka, we did not do this," Adam started.

"Your ranch mark is on hide."

"They were stolen from us. We do not know who it was or why they would do such a thing. But I promise you, when they are found they will be punished. There is no excuse for this slaughter," he said, nodding toward the carnage on the canyon floor.

Wavoka came closer to Adam, his black eyes intense. "There have been many strange things on your land, Adam Cartwright. Things I do not understand."

Adam thought back and realized the Paiutes weren't even aware that his father had died. It would come as a great shock to them. When the white man had first settled this land, Ben Cartwright was always a man to look out for his red brother. His father had been a close friend to Chief Winnemucca until the great Indian's death two years ago. Wavoka was his nephew and seemed to have many of his uncle's good traits. "Wavoka, there is much you do not know," Adam started, his eyes sad at having to be the one to convey it all to his Indian friend. Making their way from the canyon and back to their horses, Wavoka sat cross-legged and waited for his white friend to speak. Adam sat and began to tell what he knew, which, after all this time, suddenly seemed very little to him. Joe and Hoss made themselves comfortable as they listened to their brother convey the sad turn of events that had filled their last few months with grief and heartache.

Wavoka never moved as he sat and listened to the narrative which took more than an hour. "So there you have it," he finished. "Hoss recognized it, and we came out here hoping to maybe find the man's accomplices, if he had any." He spoke the last sentence through tightly clenched teeth, for as Roy already pointed out, most of their theories were conjecture.

After Adam was done, the Indian seemed deep in concentration. Getting up, he walked a little ways and looked off into the great forest that surrounded them. "Many things you have told me, Adam Cartwright. What you have told, help me to understand what I have seen for many moons."

Adam rose to stand near the Indian, peering at him intently. "What things do you speak of?"

Turning his eyes to Adam, Wavoka continued. "Do you know strange men follow you?"


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you so much for the reviews and for following! I'm glad you all like Wavoka. He was a fun character to write. Enjoy Chapter 11!

~CHAPTER 11~

The inquiry seemed so simple and innocent, and yet it brought Hoss and Little Joe to their feet and drew a shocked look from Adam. Joe's first instinct was to look around for any sign of their alleged followers.

Adam continued to question Wavoka. "What strange men? How long have you seen them? Where have you seen them?" The questions kept pouring out of him, so strong was his urgency to learn something, anything he could from this Indian who might just have the answers they'd been seeking.

"I see them since you say Ben Cartwright die. I see them follow you many times, all of you," he added, turning his attention to Joe and Hoss. "Wavoka many times wander up high in mountains. See very far, many things. Never understand until now."

Hoss prodded his brother. "You reckon they're watchin' us tuh find out when they can pull another job?"

"It would seem so. That's how they know every move we make, where we go, what we do. I can't believe we've never noticed them before…" _That I've never noticed them before,_ Adam thought dryly, wondering how many other things he'd failed to discover.

"Wavoka, these men, were they familiar to you at all?"

"No, Adam Cartwright. Wavoka, never see men before. Strangers that move as quick and quiet as shadows. After they follow you, disappear."

"Where? Do you see where they go?" Adam prompted.

"High up in mountains. Wavoka never follow."

Adam grasped the Indian's arm. "Thank you, my friend. You'll never know what a great service you have done us."

After a moment's hesitation Wavoka responded, "Ben Cartwright always treat Paiute fair. Wavoka believe the same is with his sons. I hope you find all you seek, Adam Cartwright."

"I hope now we will," he said, releasing his friend's arm and turning to where Hoss and Joe had already saddled the horses. Upon hearing Wavoka's information, they turned to the horses in hopes of possibly seeing these strangers on their return journey before the sun fell any lower in the sky. Adam was about to mount when he stopped and, turning back to the Indian, spoke in low serious tones. "Wavoka, the Paiute are honorable people. As you say, my father has done many things for the Paiute. I don't know yet what's going to happen, but if the need arises, may we ask for help from our red brother again?"

The Indian's features became even more solemn and his back became rigid as he said, "The Paiute will stand with their white brothers."

The Cartwrights hardly noticed their fatigue as they arrived back at the ranch house late that evening. For once, instead of discouragement they all felt a ray of hope, hope that soon everything would be resolved. The stars were just starting to speckle the sky when they rode into the yard. After untacking the horses and making sure they got extra feed, they started for the house, which was almost completely dark except for a small glow of light coming from the kitchen. Almost immediately Hop Sing ran out of the side door, broadening the light from the single candle he had kept burning, worry and relief evident in his black eyes. "Where you been? Hop Sing wolly all time you gone. Say you be back soon. Not back till dark." They all smiled as they approached, listening to the little man continue his tirade for several more seconds before he suddenly stopped and asked, "You find out someding?"

Hoss chuckled. "Yes, we did Hop Sing, and we'll tell you all about it over some food. My stomach's about to give me what fer for not fillin' it prit'near all day."

"Got plenty food, waiting. You come," he ordered, beckoning and leading the way back into his kitchen.

An hour or so later with their stomachs now quite full, Adam, Hoss and Joe seated themselves around their father's desk and started discussing their plan of action. The excitement buzzing through the room made each one think he would not be able to get an ounce of sleep that night as the three talked and discussed on into the night. However, as the clock started striking the early morning hours, Hoss said with a yawn, "I don't know about you two, but if we're plannin' to do much of anythin' tomorrow I'm gonna at least try tuh get some shut eye."

"Well, I'll try older brother, but I doubt it'll do a lick of good," Joe commented, easing himself off the desk where he'd been sitting. As he started after Hoss up the stairs, he noticed Adam wasn't following and turned to see his brother still sitting at the desk. "You comin', Adam?"

"I'll be up in a while, Joe," he replied, not even looking up from the papers in his hands. Not really knowing why, he'd asked Roy for the files of men confined in and around the Illinois State Prison where their Sam Chapman was known to have spent time, hoping something would spark a remembrance of any kind.

Joe smiled a sad smile at his brother's diligence. "G'night, Adam," he called before continuing up the stairs and to his room.

"Goodnight, Joe."

After another hour of pouring over file after file yielded nothing, Adam disgustedly dropped the one he was reading onto the desk. He slowly brought his hands over his face, stopping to rub his eyes behind which a nasty headache had slowly begun to brew. All that had happened since that morning seemed to overwhelm him, and he dropped his hand onto his lap, realizing just how exhausted he was. He brought his head up from its drooped position and rested his eyes on the familiar four framed pictures sitting on the edge of the desk. There was one of each of Ben Cartwright's cherished wives, and the fourth was that of his sons that they had given him as a birthday present... it would've been two years ago now. Adam's hazel eyes ran meticulously over each one, savoring every well-loved face. He sighed heavily to himself and pushed away from the desk, turning down the oil lamp on the round table at the bottom of the stairs as he strode past, no longer being able to ignore the call of his bed.

He tread quietly as he passed the first room, Hoss's resounding snores coming from within. At the second, since no sound could be heard, Adam wondered if Joe was asleep. Not wanting to check for fear he'd wake him if he was, Adam continued on to the third room on the right. Going in, he shivered as the cold dampness made its presence known and rushed Adam's movements to get between the warm covers of his bed all the more. He didn't even bother to light a candle, but proceeded to shuck his shirt and unbuckle his belt by the dim moonlight that streamed through the single frost-covered window. As tired as he was and with head lowered, he must've misjudged the distance to his bed for he suddenly ran in to his sideboard, making him jerk back in shock. The piece of furniture was hit so hard that its reacting shudder made something fall to the floor, creating a loud clunk as it connected with the hardwood floor. Adam identified the object immediately as its soft-playing melody instantly filled the room. He momentarily forgot his aching shin bone as he sat down and bent to recover his mother's fallen music box.

Just as he was about to pick it up, a memory out of nowhere blazed through his mind, etched into his brain a time long ago when the same music box had fallen, and a woman's gentle hands had picked it up and given it back to a young dark-haired boy lying sick in a truckle bed. With the thought of his step-mother came even more memories of where he had been, why he was there, what he and his Pa were doing. One of the nicest boarding houses he had ever been in was in that little town...

Adam froze in his movements, his hand not even yet touched what he had intended to pick up as the full reality of what he remembered struck him in the face. Quickly picking up the box and closing its lid in an attempt to not wake his brothers with its song, he set it back on the sideboard and hurried quickly back out his door and down the hallway, retracing his recent steps back to his father's desk. Could he be right? Could a connection actually be made? Hopefully he could find out for certain.


	12. Chapter 12

cma1 - Wow, with your eye for detail I'm surprised you've been able to keep silent for _this_ long. Thank you for your observation. I've taken out those two words.

BettyHT - I'm afraid it won't be that easy. I see a much longer road ahead for the boys. :/

Sorry BJ2! lol Unfortunately there are quite a few from here on out. ;)

AureaD - You won't have to wait long to find out. ;)

guest - Ooo, a guess as to the bad guy! Let us know if you're right. :)

~CHAPTER 12~

His back felt as if it had molded to the ridges and spikes of the rock wall behind him, so long had he been confined to the same spot. Looking down, he gazed at the manacles around his wrists and wondered if he would ever live to see the day they might be taken off. So far, no such fortune had smiled upon him, and Ben Cartwright was forced to endure the cold rings of steel binding him to the unforgiving rock. He couldn't count the number of times he had thought back to each one of his boys, remembering times and experiences with each that brought a smile to his face even in this ever-present prison. There were memories of Little Joe's laughing face and tousled hair which he always had to keep reminding him to get cut. It might've been a common ritual they had to make him go through when he was little, but now Ben thought Joe put up the customary fuss just for tradition's sake, a way to draw an amused chuckle from his old man. There were memories also of Hoss, his solid, sturdy, efficient middle son, always doing what needed to be done, and always ruled by his heart. Ben remembered the first time his big heart had been broken when a mean-spirited boy at school had made fun of his large stature and clumsy movements. It was then that Ben had conveyed to him that it wasn't what a person was like on the outside but what was on the inside that counted. He couldn't help how big he was on the outside, but ever since then he always strove to make what was inside as good as possible. And lastly, there were memories of the eldest of the three. Ben thought back to when he and Adam had come cross country together on their way to fulfill Ben's dream. It was with his son's help that he had built all that there is now... or... was. He couldn't even imagine how all that was happening affected them. The fact that he was forced to help these evil men in their plot to destroy the Ponderosa tore away at Ben daily and plagued his dreams with sadness and torment.

No matter how many times he had run that day over in his mind, he still couldn't see a possible solution to the predicament that led him here. Traveling along the cliff-top road from Virginia City to the Ponderosa was something he had done countless times before, and never, when he set out that day, did he expect that trip to turn out so wrong. He had just been going through the trickiest section of road, where the rocky hill on the one side pushed the road to the very edge of the overhang on the other. As he passed by, he had seen what looked like a wounded man in the middle of the road. He observed no gun in the man's holster and his hands were fully in view, so he didn't suspect the man was trying to waylay him. Carefully stepping down he went to the man and was about to turn him over when he felt the cold mouth of a pistol at the base of his skull.

"I wouldn't move or make a sound if I were you," the owner of the gun had said. As soon as the words were spoken the man lying in the road got up and brushed himself off, smiling all the while at how well their ruse had worked. "Just lift those arms, nice and easy like," the unnamed voice spoke again as Ben felt his gun being lifted gently out of its holster.

"I don't have much money on me. Take whatever supplies you want from the wagon." The man behind him chuckled a cold, mirthless laugh.

Just then Ben heard a horse approach from behind him and a voice answer, "What makes you think we want anything but you... Cartwright?"

Realization shot through Ben's mind at the cold familiarity of that voice. All the while they stripped him of his coat, hat and gun belt and even while they tied his hands behind him, he couldn't take his eyes off of that man. "What do you want?" he questioned angrily, his voice taut as a bow string from anger. The question didn't receive one word in response, but instead the man upon his horse motioned for all the others to mount up as horses were brought around by another member of the party. Once safely on top of the hill overlooking the tiny road, the order was given by the leader to start a cascade of rocks and loose debris from the top of the hill to plummet toward the small buckboard Ben had been driving just minutes earlier.

That day seemed so long ago, a bad dream of the past, a nightmare that Ben wished every time he woke would be behind him. He never saw his personal effects again. He figured with disgust that they were probably used to further implicate his death. What his poor boys must've suffered, what they must still be suffering. Ben yanked hard at his chains, feeling so helpless and yet not able to do a thing about it. He must play the "Boss's" game for as long as he had to. Anything... to keep his boys safe.

The single pair of footsteps made Ben raise his eyes to the round mouth of the cavern opening. The head man himself stepped in and walked over to his cot in the corner.

After several minutes the silence between them was broken. "How long?"

The man looked up, his black eyes digging into Ben's.

"How long will this go on?" Ben repeated.

"As long as it takes," the man replied, his voice holding little to no emotion, the eyes remaining an impenetrable barrier to the deep thoughts churning within.

"And what will it take? Until you've destroyed my land completely, destroyed me, completely? Because that's what you want, isn't it? It's just me. But, why?" Ben asked, his anger now adding volume to his voice.

The man didn't respond, just continued to lie on his cot.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want!" he yelled the very question he had asked the first day he was taken, to which he had not yet received an answer. Now he was determined to get one. Ben could see the man's jaw working as hints of emotion started coming through, and that fact gave Ben more resolve. He didn't care what the consequences might be. "What happened to bring you to this?" Then in a more devious and even mocking tone of voice, he continued, "For the first time in his life, did the _great_ Jason McWhorter not get what he wanted?"

That was the last straw. The man slowly sat up and turned hate-filled eyes back to Ben. "You... It was all because of you," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"Inger was never going to marry you, McWhorter. She...she was too wise a woman and could tell that she would be nothing more than a prize from yet another conquest of yours. Inger could never live like that." Ben's speech slowed as thoughts of his second wife flooded his memory.

"You think it was just because of her?" McWhorter bristled, unconsciously twisting the blanket underneath him into a wrinkled ball. "That little good-for-nothing Swedish wench?"

Ben reflexively strained his muscles against his chains and felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the smearing words cast on his deceased wife.

"Don't you dare..." he started.

"You think it was because of her?" McWhorter asked again in an almost accusing manner.

"Then what?" Ben growled after a moment's hesitation, his teeth grinding in hatred and frustration. "What was it, if it wasn't her? She convinced me not to press charges..."

"It didn't make any difference!" he shouted, pushing off from the cot, fire-laden anger lashing out of his very being. He started to breathe heavily and he walked back and forth in agitation.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked, never taking his eyes off the crazed man for a second.

McWhorter stopped and looked at Ben as if he expected him to know everything that had happened and find his actions for those events perfectly reasonable. "No, no... you might not have pressed charges," he went to stand in front of the wall, aching to punch his fury out on it for having the gall to be in the way of his pacing, "but you might as well have, because my life was never the same from that day on. Ever since you left my town, MY TOWN!" he shrieked as one possessed by the past. "I ran that place, owned practically every building, every company. I had everyone eating from my hand. Nothing happened unless by my word. But not after that day, the day that fool Gunnar came to see me, the day you came to see me."

He suddenly stopped pacing, although his chest continued to heave with pent up rage. He headed for his cot and sat down again, leaning over and clasping his hands together in front of him. Ben waited for the rest of the explanation, knowing that soon more would have to come. After taking an especially deep sigh, McWhorter sat up and stared off into space.

"The only bad thing about my town was it was small, growing to be sure, but still small. And in small towns gossip and scandal spread like wildfire. You might not've pressed charges on me for what happened to Gunnar, but the scandal that followed afterwards did just as much harm, if not more. No one would trade with me anymore. My businesses went under; I had to close up most of them. My reputation was ruined," he spoke the last through gritted teeth. To a man like Jason McWhorter, his reputation was one thing he was never afraid of losing, for he held it too dear and considered it too precious to have someone tarnish it. But tarnished it had been, and irreparably so, by the one man he now had in his clutches.

"In not even five years time, I had lost everything, could barely retain the shirt on my back. As the town continued to grow and prosper, I was forgotten, just a homeless person cast on the street from hard times. No one would've thought that _I _had owned everything at one time," he scoffed. "And it only got worse from then on. I had to use any means I could just to stay alive; and the only friends I could find were outcasts, just like I had become. One of which I had to dispose of the other day."

The blasé manner he spoke this latest bit of information sent a chill down Ben's spine. How a man could be so cold and indifferent in taking the life of another was beyond him.

"During one ill-fated robbery attempt we were caught and sentenced to 15 years in prison. And in that rotting pit I wasted away a good chunk of my life."

He turned to his audience of one. "And it was all because of you. Because of you, I lost the woman I should've married, lost my money, my way of life, everything that was important to me! And every day I spent in that filthy hole working my hands to the bone on hard labor I swore I'd have my revenge. The only thing that kept me going day after day was planning. I planned everything down to the last detail," the man's devilish face twisted into a deranged grin, and he chuckled at his well-conceived designs. "I lost everything because of you, Cartwright. And now you're going to lose everything, everything you ever worked for; and you're going to watch it being done all with your own hand. I want you to see your sons suffer with heartache and misery at your doing."

"Not my doing, McWhorter. You've left me no choice. You've threatened them," Ben's voice caught. That's why he was doing all of this, for his sons. The very first day they forced Ben to reveal information to them, the ultimatum had been laid down: either give them the information they needed to destroy his land and home or watch one of his sons die. What choice was that for a loving father?

And so it had gone on for what seemed like an eternity to Ben. He no longer had any hope of keeping his own life after everything was taken, but right now he was doing everything in his power to keep his boys safe, to keep them alive, even if it meant watching them grieve and despair at seeing their home and family be torn apart by unknown assailants. However, Ben realized that this man was mad, a lunatic perhaps, driven by his own insatiable lust for revenge. That fact made Ben think of nothing else but the safety of Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe. It was nothing but a waiting game at this point, and both of them knew it.

* * *

_"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" a woman cried despairingly. _

_Adam sleepily flicked his eyes open at the sound of the nice lady's sobs. He found the living room where he had been sleeping, empty. The sounds were coming from the open door of the adjoining bedroom. What could be the matter with Miss Inger? He had never heard her cry before. Adam quickly decided that a lady as nice as her shouldn't cry. It was then that he heard his Pa's voice. Pa was home! Everything must be alright then. But why is she crying? _

_"Something hit me on the head... It's the last thing I remember..." Miss Inger's brother Gunnar spoke now. Miss Inger said that he wasn't feeling very well and was sleeping, so maybe he was getting better. _

_Pushing off the knit blanket that covered him, he got to his feet and crept to the door, to listen at what was being said. Since his Pa had taught him not to eavesdrop, it was with some uneasiness that he did so; but he was scared. Earlier on in the day, his Pa had left him and he didn't know where he went. Granted, he had left him before, but never without telling him where he was going or when he'd be back. _

_"McWhorter," his father spat out the name just then. Adam stopped outside the door. "It must've been McWhorter," Gunnar acknowledged. _

* * *

Adam slipped into the desk's chair, looking at the piece of paper he had just recovered, a copy of the release roster from the Illinois Prison. He hadn't imagined it. There, in the list of names of convicts released in the past year, was the name of one McWhorter, Jason. He had been released a mere two months before Sam Chapman. McWhorter... A name like that and at such a time in a young boy's life wasn't easy to forget. He hadn't known the exact details, but he did remember the man's name in connection with his father being accused of something, something he obviously hadn't done.

It didn't make sense. If this man had any lasting quarrel with any member of his family, it would've been his father. But his father was dead. Why try to destroy the Ponderosa if the only person he would wish to harm by such an act was dead? Or...

Adam's brain felt as if it were going to explode, so many thoughts were running loose, crazy thoughts, but thoughts and tidbits of happenings that were starting to make sense; his father's death, no body, the perfect information and perfectly-timed events of life at the Ponderosa of which this gang had to have accurate knowledge. Could it be?

Adam released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Even though he sat completely still in the darkness of the downstairs, illuminated only by the single lamp he had lit when he first reached the desk, he now breathed heavily as small beads of sweat rolled down his brow despite the temperature of the downstairs. Standing up, he shakily pushed away from the desk, and, in the dark, his hands sought out the brandy bottle. He quickly poured himself a glass and downed it in one swallow.

No! He wasn't going to let himself believe it unless he was absolutely sure. He knew that if he did and it turned out false, it would be like losing him all over again. Adam was too sensible a person to run wild with such an idea until he was sure. He wouldn't tell Hoss or Joe either; he couldn't. What if he was wrong? He didn't even know if he really believed it was possible or if it was just wishful delusions that crowded his mind. Or was he just going crazy, crazy to even think of such a possibility?

Time made its presence known again as the grandfather clock struck three in the morning. With each dong of the hours gone by came an imaginary voice in Adam's head that seemed to ride the very chimes of the timepiece. _Alive! He's still alive! _It seemed to say. If only Adam could let himself believe it.


	13. Chapter 13

~CHAPTER 13~

Their brother had been acting strangely all morning. Joe wondered if he had really gone to his room at all last night, or just spent the entire time rambling through old records. Adam had been up when he and Hoss came downstairs that morning, but that wasn't so unusual. He was usually the early riser, but it was the dark circles under the eyes and the unkempt hair showing the clear signs of having nothing run through it but his hands, that told a different story. Hoss knew something was eating away at his brother, at both of his brothers actually, because he could tell by the way Joe kept taking occasional glances at Adam that their older brother's plight was affecting him as well. He decided to not read too much in to it, however, at least not at the moment. He knew by now that Adam was not one to confide anything that was irksome to him unless he was ready, and over the years, Hoss had learned to wait for that moment with patience.

As for Adam, he let his brothers take the lead that morning as they took their planned expedition to the line fences and young herds. Several hours before dawn he had gone back to his room, but spent the rest of the night merely looking out his window, knowing that any attempts at sleep would be fruitless. Although he had tried throughout the morning to rid his mind of his late-night thoughts, the far-fetched idea would not go away. But, he couldn't be sure if it was because his interpretation of events was truly logical, or if he just wanted the idea to be true so much that he was overlooking something even more important. Even though Adam was known for hiding his feelings with amazing success, to both his brothers there was little doubt that something was preoccupying him.

"I'll tell you one thing," Hoss spoke up, breaking the silence as their horses plodded along in step with each other. "It sure is a good thing that sun ain't out today, or this thing would be reflectin' the tar out of it," Hoss chuckled.

"Have you seen anything yet?" Adam asked.

"Nope, not yet," Hoss replied, moving the small mirror in his hand so that it scanned the high mountains in back of them, the general vicinity that Wavoka had said he had seen their watchers most often. It was a long shot they knew, but they saw no harm in trying.

The next few hours passed without any incident or sighting. They had planned to spend the day just making rounds, trying to see if they could pick out anything unusual along the way. They had just finished talking with the hands who were watching the young maverick herd and had started on their ramble again when Hoss spoke up. "Hey there..." he said softly, as he paused the mirror's perusal of the mountains behind them.

"What? You found something?" Joe asked in astonishment, keeping his head forward and his voice as low as Hoss's in case their stalker was closer than he thought.

"There he is," Hoss replied with suppressed excitement. "About a half mile up on the ridge. Dadburnit, no wonder we never noticed him way up there. You'd have tuh know exactly where tuh look tuh spot that varmint."

"Alright, then. Let's start heading back home, see what he does," Adam said, and instead of taking the road to the east fence as planned, they turned their horses down the main road and started back toward the ranch.

"Why you reckon he's exposin' himself so much?" Hoss questioned, moving the mirror in sinc with Chubby's steps so as to not lose sight of their quarry.

"Probably figures we've never spotted him before, why should we now?" Adam said quietly, reining Sport in as he began to prance some. The realization that they were being followed and had actually seen the man himself, just added to the tension and gave them that edgy feeling. Maybe the man would sense that someone was watching him. The horses neighed nervously and pulled at their bits, feeling the uneasiness of their riders.

They were almost in sight of the ranch when Hoss exclaimed suddenly. "Hey, he's gone."

"You lost him?" Joe asked in disbelief.

"No, he just turned and left. Reckon he figures we're close enough to home by now, that that's where we're goin'."

"You sure?" Adam asked, not wanting to take any chances in this tricky little game of cat and mouse where the stakes were becoming higher all the time.

After another second of checking the area where he had last seen the horseman, he nodded. "Sure as shootin', Adam."

To that Adam nodded and veered Sport off into the underbrush by the side of the road where it connected with an adjoining trail leading back toward the mountains, Hoss and Joe following close behind. Once they were far off the main trail and had reached some high ground, they pulled up and dismounted, standing together as Hoss pointed out the exact area where he had seen him. "Right up on that ridge. See that jagged rock stickin' out from the overhangin' shelf? He was on his horse perched out right on top of there. After a while, he turned back around to the right and up that side trail."

Adam nodded. This was it. He silently tried to assure himself he was doing the right thing. Turning to his brothers he said, "Alright, this is where we part company."

Hoss looked at his brother in consternation, his voice clipped with impatience. "What are you talkin' about, Adam? Come on let's go, time's awastin'. That jasper's gettin' farther ahead of us."

"I've decided it's best if I go alone, Hoss. You and Joe stay here and wait till I come. If I'm not back by ten o'clock tonight, go to town and get Roy. Tell him what's happened."

"Listen, Adam, there's no way we're letting you go up there by yourself. It's too dangerous," Joe blurted out, putting his hands on his hips.

"It's too dangerous having more people go up; we'd just run a greater risk of being spotted. Now please, Joe." Adam paused and his eyes looked pleadingly into those of his brothers. "Trust me on this."

Joe was taken aback by the heartfelt words. They were uttered so unlike Adam's regular air of straight business with no time for second opinions. It almost sounded as if he were begging them, imploring them to stay there, to not go up with him. Joe didn't like it. That uneasiness he'd been feeling all day over his brother's manner came back tenfold. He didn't like the idea of him going up there alone, and was about to voice his objection when Hoss spoke up. "Alright, Adam. We'll do it your way. We'll stay here."

Joe looked at his brother in shock. Surely Hoss saw the folly of such an idea just as much as he did, but if he had, his blue eyes didn't show it. They were serious but confident, and he raised his hand slightly in Joe's direction, cutting off the objection he knew was coming. "You best hurry now. He's gettin' a good lead on you," he finished, his voice drawn with worry and emotion. Joe looked back at Adam and saw the quickest look of gratitude flash across his face. Without another word, just a quick squeeze on their shoulders in farewell, he mounted again and started on the path that wound up into the nearby mountain.

He had no sooner disappeared from sight than Joe hurried over to Cochise and prepared to mount as well. His actions were stopped by Hoss's meaty hand grabbing hold of his bridle. "Where do you think you're goin'?"

"What do you mean where am I going? I'm following him. You saw how he was; something's not right. I can feel it, and don't try to tell me you didn't notice how he acted."

"No, I noticed, Joe," Hoss replied in a low tone. "But we cain't do nothin' 'cept what Adam asked us tuh do. I don't know what he's plannin', but if he felt the need fer us to stay here that much, then I reckon he must have a powerful good reason. We'd only be causin' him more trouble if'n we went along or tried followin' him."

Joe looked back at the trail that Adam had taken, then looked Hoss in the eyes. "I'm scared, Hoss. He's our brother. What if he's heading into trouble. We... we may lose him just like Pa." His voice cracked at the mere thought of losing another member of his family. Deep inside, the overwhelming desire to see that didn't happen was battling with the trust he had in his brother.

Hoss placed a hand on Joe's shoulder and nodded. "I know, Lil' Joe. But we just have tuh trust that Adam knows what he's doin'. Reckon we can't do nothin' else but wait."

* * *

He wished for some assurance that what he was doing was the right thing. How he would've loved to have his brothers along, would've loved to tell them of his suspicions, of what he remembered. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't build up their hopes just to see them hurt again if he was wrong. Yes, he had done the right thing. He was also glad they didn't ask why he hadn't wanted to send for the Sheriff the moment they caught sight of the man. What could he have told them….that even if they knew right where their camp was, they couldn't go up there with a posse because they might shoot their Pa? Every time Adam thought of it, the likelihood of his father being alive became less and less a possibility to him, but he couldn't take any chances. Inside, he was waging war, logic against feelings. The victor would decide what he should do next. Right now he was on the fence, not trusting himself to make any decision for fear that, either way, he would hurt his family.

He had the feeling Joe might try to follow him. Oh yes, he had seen the impetuous look in his young eyes, the look that spoke nothing but action, but he could count on Hoss to stop him. Hoss would trust him no matter what, just as he had his entire life. He just hoped this time he wasn't leading them astray. But now he had to concentrate on what he was doing right then and follow the trail before him more carefully. He felt he was getting close.

Once he started getting up into steeper country, he decided to leave Sport in a clump of pines out of sight and continue on foot. Firmly attaching him to a low branch, he started out again. After another few minutes of following the man's trail, he suddenly heard the sound of a horse snorting not too far in front of him and a man's voice speaking to it in casual tones, obviously not suspecting anyone of tailing him. Adam ducked into the shrubs by the side of the trail and, under cover, worked his way up so he could view the cleared area. He could see the stranger now leading the horse into a small corral, half of which was made from the rock face, and filled with at least a dozen other horses. Adam realized why they had chosen such a spot. It was a perfect place and only someone with a complete knowledge of the ranch would know it. This, again, brought home the many coincidences involved in the events of the past several months.

The man now gave his steed a final farewell pat before closing the gate and heading off for a destination further up the hill. After he was gone from sight, Adam ducked out from cover and continued following at a safe distance, knowing full well that there might be lookouts stationed in any shadowed corner or crevice. He could hear the man whistling further up ahead, and for some reason, the simple act almost infuriated Adam. That man was staking out men whose lives he was helping ruin, and he thought so little of it that he was able to indulge in a carefree whistle. His jaw clenched, and he was glad the man didn't turn at the sound of his teeth grinding together.

The two continued on, Adam taking small silent steps, when the man ahead called out. "Hello, the cave. Clint, it's Jesse." Adam stilled as his breath caught in his throat.

* * *

**ansi - Thank you so much for the lovely compliments. I hope you continue to enjoy the read. :) **

**Oh, yes what I put these poor boys through. lol It's going to get a bit worse before it gets better though, I'm afraid. **


	14. Chapter 14

~CHAPTER 14~

"It's about time you got back," he heard another voice sound from up ahead as he observed Jesse make his way around a corner of the rock face which was just coming into Adam's view. Keeping a safe distance from the small trail the man was taking, Adam had constantly kept the man in sight; but now his quarry had vanished from sight around the rock ahead and slightly above him. Looking to make sure no one would see, he darted out from cover, across the trail to the other side. Easing down onto his stomach, he worked his way up the slight incline for a better view of where the man had gone. The rock formation was typical, similar to dozens which were all over the Ponderosa. Within a few minutes, Adam was able to get a clear view of where the two men were standing in front of a rather large crevice that seemed to have formed by the splitting of one large rock formation into two. One of the men standing in front of the crevice opening was who he had been following. The other was presumably the one called Clint. _Now what_? Adam thought. He found their hideout; now what was he supposed to do? Wait? He couldn't go back without at least trying to discover what he most desperately wanted to know. Adam could see the two were having a conversation, but he was too far away to clearly make out what was being said. Trying to make out their words, he managed to draw himself almost to the very edge of the small leveled plateau outside the cave entrance, which was slightly above where Adam now lay among the brush and trees. Motionless, Adam could still barely hear what they were saying above the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, due partly to the amount of physical exertion he had put forth to reach this place, but mainly due to the excitement of finding their camp and the realization of the danger he was in. Suddenly the conversation ceased, and Jesse continued on into the cave as Clint resumed his guard, pacing back and forth in front of it. It was then that Adam suddenly realized just how far up he had come.

He was actually startlingly close now. The small plateau in front of the cave entrance extended no more than thirty feet out, and Adam wasn't even five feet into the brush skirting the outside of it. With trepidation, he wondered if he could back away without being heard, now that the two were no longer talking. With eyes fixed on the watchman, he tried to ease himself back when suddenly the guard jerked his head in his direction. Adam froze, his body tensing as he stared intently at the man, wondering what he was going to do, and waiting to see if he had heard enough to cry out an alarm. Sweat pricked his palms and tediously progressed down his back as he watched the man intently through the the intricately thin lace of branches and leaves between him and the open ground, waiting for the man's next move.

He seemed to remain motionless forever, and Adam was beginning to hope he would continue on with his passes when he saw him, almost intuitively, take steps right in his direction. Had he seen him? Should he run? No. If he hadn't seen him, to run now would surely alert him as to his exact position. Instead, he stretched out his body completely flat, almost willing himself to meld in with the surroundings and thankful for the approaching dusk that was beginning to settle in the brush around him. He held his breath as he could see the man's boots approach, coming closer... closer. When was he going to stop? Any closer and he'd be sure to see him. Only a thin layer of sagebrush, tall brown grasses and a skinny tree or two were left between Adam and the guard. Just as Clint was almost right on top of him, a voice called from the cave.

"Clint, where are you?" The boots stopped, still pointing in Adam's direction a moment longer before turning about, but much to Adam's chagrin, not moving off again. Instead, he hollered from where he was, "Over here," and eased his back up against the very tree Adam was lying behind. He could feel its frail trunk move at the man's weight, and he instinctively pulled his arm away from it. As the other man approached, Adam pressed himself further into the ground, ignoring the twigs and branches that were scratching his face.

"Boss say when's the next move?" Clint asked as the new man came up beside him.

"Yeah, he just told us," the somewhat younger sounding voice answered.

"Well?" Clint asked impatiently.

"He wants to set fire to the main barn tomorrow night," the other replied with some reluctance.

"The ranch's barn?" Clint asked. The other man must have nodded as Adam didn't hear an answer.

"Good," Clint stated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while repositioning the rifle he balanced in his arms. "We done nothin' for far too long. I want to see some action."

"Oh, you'll get your fill alright. Just hope we aren't biting off more than we can chew. We've never gone that close before. A lot can go wrong."

"We'll have all we need to know. Boss'll make 'im tell." Adam's breath caught, making him almost choke on the dry dirt at his mouth, which, along with nerves, was making his throat as dry as parchment. _Make who tell?_ After a few moments the air in front of his face cleared, and Adam was able to breath again without fear of coughing as the two continued their conversation.

"Of course, just like always, but it doesn't feel right this time. Even though he knows everything about the place, what if something's been changed? It's been a long time. Things can happen. Things can go wrong being that close to where them Cartwrights live. I just don't like it, I tell you."

"Quit your worryin', Travis. Boss wouldn't risk everythin', not now. He's got it all figured; if anyone knows what goes on there it's the old man , and Boss'll git it out of him." Clint chuckled at the last, an evil, sadistic laugh that had a deeper meaning that Adam was quick to grasp. Not one word had escaped his ears, and the newly acquired information was almost making his head was spin. _Old man... and was this Boss..._ He had to force himself to stop dwelling on what he had just heard for the time being as Travis started moving away, but then stopped.

"Oh, almost forgot. Boss says you're on guard duty tomorrow night while we're gone."

Clint hit the handle of his gun in frustration. "Now ain't that always how it is? Somethin' excitin's comin' and I have to stay and play nurse-maid to the geezer."

Travis spoke up again in a quieter tone. "Believe me; if I could, I'd gladly trade with you. I don't like the idea of goin' there one bit."

Although Adam couldn't see either of their faces, he could tell when Clint spoke that there was misgiving in his voice and wariness in his features. "What's the matter with you, Travis? Not losin' your nerve, are yuh? Just think, when all of this is over we'll be livin' high..."

"Yeah; well just when will that _be_, Clint?" Travis's voice rose in volume, but he quickly corrected it so as not to be heard by unwanted ears. "Look, that payroll money still hasn't been divided, and why couldn't we have sold that beef instead of destroyin' it? What's he really tryin' to do here, that's what I'd like to know." The man stopped suddenly, and Adam could just imagine the frightened man looking over his shoulder for a listener. It wasn't hard to tell that there were certain misgivings in the ranks, and a fleeting thought in Adam's mind wondered if they might be able to use that somehow.

"Now you best keep away from ideas like that, Trav. That kinda talk can get you into a heap of trouble, and I don't like the sound of it myself; so you better stop."

"Alright, alright, I'm stopping. It's just questions, Clint. That's all."

"The dangerous kind. You saw what happened to Sam. You want that to happen to you?"

"Believe me, I've been thinkin' a lot about Sam too. And so should you."

"Listen Trav, that fool, Sam, got what he deserved; we all know that! He put all of us in danger by that bone-headed stunt o' his. The best thing for you to do is to keep your mouth shut, and just do as you're told. Besides, with Sam out of the way, it just means there's more for the rest of us."

"I know. You can't blame a man for being edgy before a hit," Travis tried to counter.

"As long as that's all it is," Clint answered warningly. Adam could hear Travis move away and presumably back toward the cave. Clint didn't seem to have the inclination to move, however, and leaned back further, making himself more comfortable against the tree. Not that Adam, if he could've moved away, would've done so just then; his mind was in too great a state of confusion and shock. _They're going to fire our barn tomorrow night. _Adam tried to remember if they said an exact time, but couldn't recall them mentioning any. _One of them was staying back here. To watch someone... someone..._ Adam didn't trust his beating heart to not be heard throughout the mountain at the realization of who that someone might be. _They didn't actually say it was him. It could be someone else. But who? _ Adam's head began to ache with a renewed vigor as the same haunting questions from the previous night came back with a vengeance. _How could it be anyone else? _Just then he wished he could get out of there. He needed to get back to Hoss and Joe, needed to tell them about what he learned about the proposed sabotage. Should he also tell them all he knew, though? _Stop it!_ He mentally scolded himself. _You can't afford to think about that now. _He realized his first priority was to get out of there. Nothing he had learned would amount to anything if he let himself get caught now. Adam eased his head up off the ground slightly to see the guard in almost the exact same position. There was nothing Adam could do but wait until the guard moved away.

It was not any time soon. In fact, Clint stayed there for the remainder of his watch, only straightening himself to check the path every so often and never giving enough time for Adam to duck away. It wasn't until a couple hours later, when the moon had risen high in the dark blanketed sky, that Clint had moved just a little way off. Adam felt that it was now safe enough to at least slowly ease his arm into his pocket for his watch to find out how much time he had before his brothers would start to worry about his lengthy absence. He had just drawn it out of his pocket when another man Adam hadn't seen before exited the cave to relieve Clint. Adam started to wonder just how many of them there were. He lay completely flat once again, his watch still clasped in his hand. No formalities were exchanged between the two. The new man asked if anything had been seen, and it was followed by a quick and curt "nothin'". The new guard however appeared to be more alert at his post and walked back and forth close to the cave entrance, hopefully leaving enough distance for Adam to take his leave. Quietly, he thrust the watch back into his pocket and slowly slid himself back along the ground, hearing and feeling his back, and several other places, crack in objection to the long span of time on the unforgiving ground. He did so, not even noticing the timepiece slip from the close confines of his pocket.

Slowly easing one leg back and then the other, he constantly watched the guard for any sign of awareness as to his departure. There appeared to be none, and he slowly continued to increase the distance between them. His nerves were wound as tight as a drumhead from having spent so much time in such company. All he wanted was to finally get away from them. Once he reached the trail down the hill, he was reluctant to use it and still skirted off into the brush beside it, avoiding any chance that he still might be seen. Almost in a trance, Adam worked his way back to Sport. His mind was wracked with indecision. The whole time he had been lying there, waiting for some opportunity to get away, he had been trying to bring some semblance of order to his normally well-ordered mind, which was now overflowing with jumbled thoughts. He felt as if he couldn't concentrate, a most disconcerting feeling to him. Finally reaching Sport, Adam mounted and started back down to his brothers, all the while trying to decide what he should tell them when he reached them.

* * *

LukeBryanFan: I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but thank you for following and reviewing!

Thank you, BettyHT! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far.

And getting closer, BJ2. ;)


	15. Chapter 15

~CHAPTER 15~

The sun's progression seemed so slow that it appeared to have stopped in the sky as Hoss and Joe waited anxiously for their brother's return. Hoss had confidence in his brother, believing he would come back. He said as much to Joe whenever he asked useless questions as to Adam's whereabouts, or what could be taking him so long, questions Hoss had no hope of answering. But as the hours slowly crawled by, the sun disappeared from the sky, and the hour of ten o'clock drew nearer with no sign of Adam, Hoss could feel his heart start to pound for his brother's safety. He had been gone too long. The air was becoming frigid, making them shiver in its chill, and still there was no sign of Adam. They knew the awaited time had to be getting close if not come and gone already.

Joe slowly felt his suspicions becoming reality, and the endless waiting was working his nerves to a frazzle. After taking one last longing gaze up the trail, he looked at his brother with imploring eyes that Hoss could've instinctively felt if he hadn't already seen them in the light of the full moon overhead. "Hoss..."

"Alright, Lil' Joe," he said, not needing another word. "Let's go on up," he finished, seemingly forgetting about going to get Roy and only wanting to make sure his brother was safe at that point. Starting for where their horses were tied among the trees not too far away, Joe breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he took off for his own paint. Their hands had just reached the pommels when the far-off hollow clipping of a single horse's hooves reached their ears, making them stop and gaze hopefully up the moonlit trail. Hoss motioned for Joe to duck down on the side of the path while he took the other just in case the late night rider wasn't their brother. The rider soon came into view, moving his horse in slow and cautious movements. He brought his mount to a stop just opposite them and Joe saw the warmingly familiar outline of the rider's black hat and heard Cooch nicker to the new horse in friendly greeting. Sport immediately returned his welcome.

"Adam!" he called as he and Hoss came out from cover to approach their brother, smiles showing across their faces.

"We was wonderin' when you was gonna get back," Hoss said, his casual tone belaying the anxiety they had endured during his long absence.

"Yeah, we were just about to go and get the sheriff. Why were you gone so long, Adam? What happened?" Joe asked hurriedly.

"I found their camp," Adam replied in that annoying manner he assumed sometimes when you couldn't tell if he was suppressing emotion or really had nothing important enough to reveal. Joe very much doubted it being the latter. This was the break they'd been waiting for, hoping for! Adam had located their camp and was able to come back without getting caught. Joe could feel their days of depression and constant worry soon coming to an end.

"Hot diggety!" Hoss said slapping his thigh. "Now just as soon as we can get into town we'll get Roy and take 'im up there, and finish off the whole lot of 'em. How many of 'em were there, Adam? Who were they, did yuh recognize 'em?"

Adam looked as if he wasn't sure whether to dismount or not. However, he finally decided to be on the ground closer to his brothers, needing the reassurance that he was actually there with them, and not pinned down in the nerve-wracking situation of the past few hours. "No, I didn't recognize them," he replied, answering Hoss's last question.

They grew troubled and apprehensive as they noticed that Adam seemed even more withdrawn and edgy than before he left. If anything, he should've been just as happy as they were over his news. Instead, his eyes seemed to dart away and look at everything and anything but them.

"What's the matter, Adam? You found 'em!" Hoss congratulated, clapping Adam on the back. "And without our help!" he added as a small joke, but the unsure look stayed in Adam's eyes as they merely flicked at Hoss in acknowledgment. "What's the matter?" Hoss asked again, now becoming worried. "Nothin' happened up there did it? You don't think they saw yuh, do yuh?"

"No... no they didn't see me. Everything went fine. They're using one of the old abandoned caves up on a northwest trail parallel to the ridge. I couldn't tell how many of them there were, but I know at least four. I overheard them saying they were gonna set fire to our stables tomorrow night. From what I could make out, they... there's a hostage. They didn't say who it was." The inflection in Adam's voice made it appear as if he was going to say more, but his sentence ended there. Both brothers sensed something was terribly wrong. They'd never seen Adam act in this enigmatic and inscrutable way before.

"Who do you reckon it could be?" Hoss's unassuming question made Adam meet his gaze for the first real time since he'd gotten back, and for once in his life, Hoss couldn't read what he saw there.

"They didn't say. I... I'm not sure." Adam had to turn away suddenly and prod his temple with his hand. He couldn't think. His eyes felt as heavy as lead weights, the banging in his head slowly increased to an almost unmanageable level. The fatigue from no sleep in the last two days finally started to spread a numbing sensation through his entire body.

"Adam, dadburnit, what's the matter? What happened up there?" Hoss came up behind him and grasped his arm, not liking the unsteadiness he saw in his brother's stance.

"Nothing, I said."

"No, yuh didn't say," Hoss countered. "Adam... somethin' happened up there that you're not tellin' us, and I wanna know what."

"Oh, come on, Hoss," he said impatiently dismissive. "But you're right, we should head into town now while we know where the gang is and tell Roy what's happened." _Maybe it'll give me a little extra time to think_ he thought to himself. He made a move to return to his horse, but Hoss's firm hand on his arm didn't budge, even when he made a responsive jerk to free it.

"Adam, I ain't puttin' up with you ignorin' my question. Somethin' was gnawin' at you before yuh left, but now somethin's got yuh downright unsettled, and I'm not lettin' yuh go nowhere till you tell me what it is." Joe came and stood alongside Hoss, lending silent but evident agreement to the statement. "It's about that hostage they got up there, ain't it?" Hoss continued. "Well, what about it?"

"Hoss," Adam started. "I can't tell you. I'm not sure," he said a little half-heartedly not really able to get angry with his brother. He knew how he must seem to them, and he scolded himself for not being able to hide his feelings better. At this point, however, he wondered if it was worth trying to continue. He could read all too well the concern and worry written on their faces.

"Adam, who do you think it is? Why do you think you have to hide it?"

Still seeing Adam's indecision, Joe suddenly spoke up in a tight voice. "Adam, would you quit trying to make all the decisions, and trust _us_ for once!" His outburst shocked Adam and Hoss into silence. "All this time you've asked us to trust you, and we have. Now why is it so hard for you to do the same?"

Adam pushed Hoss's hand off of him and turned to look at Joe. "It's not a matter of trust, Joe..."

"Then what is it? You're trying not to tell us something that you don't think we should know. Well, why don't you stop trying to make all the decisions on your own for once and let us help?" Joe added softly, now only a foot away from Adam's face. Smirking slightly and ducking his head to look at Hoss out of the corner of his eye he added, "I don't think you really have much choice in the matter, older brother."

"He's right, Adam. Looks like you're the one without a choice right now," Hoss added. Although the words could've been harsh, they were said with all the tenderness for which Hoss was known.

Adam looked from Joe to Hoss, still aware of the looming consequence of a wrong decision. But they were right; it seemed that they were taking this particular problem out of his hands. Although it was somewhat uncharted territory, to have such a thing happen to him, he knew his brothers would stick to what they said. That fact almost gave him an inkling of comfort. Was it really fair to keep it from them now? He heaved a shaky breath, and, whether good or bad, let one of the heaviest loads he'd ever been burdened with slip off his tired shoulders. "What if it's Pa?" he asked softly, not finding it in himself to look at either of them.

The silence that hung over Adam's statement was deafening. Nothing but the low rustle of pines swaying in the wind was heard. The three stood still, Adam being the only one to move as he ran the back of his hand across his brow.

After several moments, Joe finally found his voice. "Adam... what are you talkin' about? Pa's dead." He pushed out the last words as if to dare anyone to take the matter of his father's death lightly.

"Adam, what would make you say a thing like that?" Hoss asked, disbelief riddling his voice. He knew Adam had to have a reason for such a statement, and he was insistent on knowing it.

"Because I think it's true. Believe me I wouldn't say such a thing unless I believed it was true. I believe they have Pa up in that camp..."

The front of his coat was suddenly grabbed by Little Joe and held with his shaking hands. Moisture gleamed in Joe's eyes as he wondered.. What was Adam doing to them? Had his brother finally buckled under the pressure and responsibility? How could he tell them Pa was still alive? How could he? "Adam..."

"Joe, lemme talk first. I know it sounds crazy, but lemme explain." Joe held his brother's gaze for almost a full minute, seeing into the very depths of his darkened eyes, trying to decide whether or not he was looking at a delusional, albeit sincere man. He finally released Adam's tan coat and slowly stepped back a few paces, waiting for the explanation.

Hoss hadn't rejected Adam's statement right away in his mind; instead, he tried to understand it. He was right after all; he wouldn't have said such a thing unless he had thought it over carefully and thoroughly, considering every aspect of the problem. Hoss knew his brother well enough to realize he wouldn't have risked it any other way; Adam knew _them_ that well. He was probably the only one that realized, however, that they couldn't settle it there. It was closing in on the middle of the night, and no more vigorous rubbing of the arms would ward off the chill. He observed Adam shiver slightly and turn away briefly to run his hand over his face yet again. Hoss suddenly decided it wasn't best that he try and explain out there; it wasn't the place.

Coming up behind him, he rested a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Back home," he stated. Adam shifted his head to the side, half looking back at him. "Tell us back home." He felt the need for no more words and started for Chubby, not waiting to see if they agreed or not. Adam and Joe didn't argue or even inquire as to Hoss's decisive action. Somehow by silent mutual consent, they all felt the need to be back at the ranch, their father's ranch. They would all feel safer and have an open and clearer mind back home.


	16. Chapter 16

~CHAPTER 16~

Adam took a deep-cleansing, albeit tremulous breath and ran his still clammy hands over his face and waited a few moments to collect his thoughts before he began. They had reached the house moments ago, and now with Hoss sitting on the settee and Joe standing on the other side of it, Adam knew the time had come to fill his brothers in on everything. He just hoped that his suspicions wouldn't sound as ludicrous as he knew his brothers believed them to be when he tried voicing them earlier that night.

There had been no sign of Hop Sing when they arrived, but that wasn't too surprising. The little man had been wearing himself ragged for the past couple of days, and Adam was grateful that his audience was limited to just two. As he propped his foot up on the hearth's stonework, he leaned his arm against the hard chimney and looked into the flames, the reflection of their bright orange threads flickering in his dark eyes. "Do you remember Pa telling stories about coming west, where we traveled, how we lived?" Joe and Hoss's eyes mirrored confusion as the question took them by surprise as they were unable to see how that could possibly have any connection to the present situation.

"Yeah, Adam. O' course we do," Hoss replied, to which Adam nodded as if he'd never doubted it.

"Did he ever mention our journey through the state of Illinois?"

"Course he did. That was where he met muh Ma."

"Yes. Did he ever say anything else besides that? Anything about where we visited in Illinois or what happened there?"

"I don't remember him ever going into any particulars, Adam. He just said he met her in Illinois and that she and Uncle Gunnar owned a store there," Joe spoke up. "Why?"

Adam continued slowly, delving into his long past memories, trying to make his recollection as accurate as possible. "Well, there's something that Pa might not have told you, something he never really even told me; I just vaguely remember it. In the town where he met Inger was a man named Jason McWhorter. I remember Pa and Inger talking about him a couple of times after leaving Illinois, but it was always in private, when they thought I wasn't around or was asleep." He paused, trying to make up his mind about what he was really trying to say, enough time for Hoss to recollect a bit of information for himself.

"Illinois. Where that Chapman fellar was in prison. So you do remember somethin' 'bout that?" Adam nodded slowly before continuing, trying to shut out the sight of their now eager eyes.

"One night Pa and Inger got into an argument about McWhorter. I... remember them talking as if he had accused Pa of something, something that could have gotten him into a lot of trouble, maybe even thrown in jail, or worse. I can't really remember. Anyway, of course it didn't happen, and I never heard about him after that, but..." Adam ran a hand quickly over his face, knowing that his theory was on shaky ground at this point, for he had no evidence or memory to back it up. "Something serious must have happened to make him hate Pa that much."

"I still don't see what your connection is," Joe spoke up. "I mean yeah, they were both in Illinois, but Sam Chapman, from the looks of him, was a younger guy. If something did happen between Pa and this McWhorter character, how could he have known about it?"

Adam pushed away from the hearth and shot a quick, confident glance at Joe as if to say _I might just know how_ before heading over to the desk. Hoss stood up and Joe got closer as Adam brought back just one piece of paper that he knew exactly where to find amongst the dozens still littering the desk.

"Here," he said thrusting it into Hoss's eager hands. "That's a list of convicts recently released from the Illinois Prison where Sam Chapman was kept. Read it."

Adam could tell when Hoss's finger, tracing each and every name, came to the right one. His eyes went no further, but took on a darker look as Adam continued. "You tell _me_ the odds of these two men being in the same prison, at the same time, and not knowing each other; and, also, being released within a couple of months of each other."

"They almost had to have known each other," Hoss replied, mystified over the almost surreal turn of past and recent events. He looked up to study his brother's face closely. "Adam... what happened in that camp? You musta known about this 'afore we went chasin' after that feller today, but you decided not tuh tell us."

"I wasn't sure." Adam replied quietly. "I didn't want to hurt you two if I was wrong, which... I still might be."

"I understand all that, Adam," Hoss's no-nonsense tone could be detected underlying his understanding words. "But what happened that made you change by the time you made it back tuh us tonight?"

"Did they talk about Pa?" Joe put in quickly, no longer able to be patient and let the facts come as they may, but wanting all of them to hit him at once.

"They didn't say his name, but I overheard two of them talking about the hostage they have."

"What about 'im?"

"From what I could tell he's an older man, and they're using him to get all the information they need for raids on the Ponderosa. We've said they were well-planned, more like perfect. And like we said before... who else would have that kind of knowledge besides us?"

Hoss's gaze dropped and he stared off into space, his mouth set in a grim line. "No one else would besides... Pa."

Joe voice sounded rough and laced with uncertain emotion. "If it was Pa, why would he give information that would destroy this ranch, his ranch?"

"He wouldn't do it willingly, of course," Adam replied. "They must be threatening him with something."

"His own life?"

Adam slowly approached the hearth once more. "No... McWhorter wouldn't want to kill Pa. The only thing he'd be interested in is what he can do to hurt him. And we know he's not just after money. The killing of the cattle was enough to prove that." Adam hung his head suddenly. If by some awful happenstance, everything they were speculating was true... His brow furrowed in a sad regretful face as he thought about what his Pa must've gone through... might be still going through. How he must've suffered destroying what he had worked his life to build, destroying his sons...

"Adam... " he half turned his head at the sound of Hoss's voice so close to him. "If what you're sayin's true... and Pa's still alive..." He stopped right there. The ramifications of their Pa still being alive almost made him want to jump and whoop for joy and sit down and cry at the same time. _If he was still alive... _

_If he was still alive... _the words were knocking around in Joe's head, every other thought overpowered by this almost unbelievable idea. All these months of grief... Even when his mother had died, he had reached a point where he was able to say goodbye to her, no matter how hard that had been. He hadn't reached it yet with his father. _What if he really was still alive? _Just the possibility made his eyes bright with tears. "Adam? Are you sure? You sure about McWhorter?"

Adam nodded again, no longer even trying to find a way that he might possibly be wrong.

"Pa's alive." Hoss said softly, his face showing no change but his eyes revealing the emotions within. "And all this time we thought..."

"We were wrong. He's alive!" Joe stated again as he grasped Adam's forearms in sheer joy.

"Now remember. I don't have any verifiable proof that he is. It's just that everything, every last loose end, would make sense now if it was true."

"Adam, it has to be true. We never found his body even though all the evidence showed that he died at that river."

"Yes, but don't you see. If by some small chance it might not be..."

"Well, we can't go on thinkin' like that. We know fer a fact that they've got somebody up there against his will, and all the facts is showin' us it's our Pa. No matter what we do now, we gotta find a way to get him outta there, to keep him safe." Even as he was speaking, the realization hit Hoss that even though their Pa might still be alive, he was in grave danger. If this man was willing to go as far to take revenge on him after more than twenty-five years, there's no telling what he'd do. The thought of having him back after the living hell they'd been going through, and losing him again for real this time, would be….unthinkable.

"Hoss is right." Joe said quickly, his mind now abuzz with plans and possible courses of action.

"Tomorrow night..." Adam blurted out as if he suddenly remembered something. They looked at him waiting for him to continue his thought, but instead, Adam looked at the grandfather clock beside the door before heading over to the settee where they had deposited their coats, hats and guns. "No time to explain now; we've got work to do. I'll tell you on the way."

"On the way to where?" Joe asked even while he too donned his gun belt and caught his hat that Hoss tossed to him.

"Town. We'll need Roy's help."

* * *

It was bitterly cold. By all reasoning, he figured his duty shift should've been over hours ago. The end of the miserable task never seemed to be in sight, however. He continued his pacing back and forth, periodically putting down his gun and warming his hands beneath his arms while stamping his feet to revive feeling in them again. As the noise from his boots sounded along the path, he thought he caught something scurrying into the brush beside him. Figuring there was no harm in trying to find out what it was, he entered the brush if for no other purpose than to keep his mind active and his body moving to ward off the boredom and cold. As he entered the brush and his eyes adjusted to the even darker surroundings, he kept his ears open for the sound of rustling, indicating that the living creature was near. Instead as he moved further into the brush, his ears picked up the sound of his boot hitting something metallic on the ground. Bending, he felt around in the bed of dry pine needles until his hand closed around something cold and hard. Carrying it back out into the open where the moonlight shone more brightly, he was shocked to discover it to be a watch, and from the looks of it, a very fine specimen of one with the initials A.C. expertly engraved into the face plate. Almost petrified at the prospects of what this find could possibly mean, he rushed toward the cave and hollered to his comrades.

"Hey, where's the boss?"

"In the back cave where he always is," Hank replied. "Why?"

"I think he better take a look at this."

Jason McWhorter observed the silver timepiece with cold, calculating eyes, his lip twitching every once in a while, moving the jagged scar on his cheek in a distorted fashion. "Where did you find it?"

"Over just beyond the clearing, Boss."

He turned his eyes to one member in particular of the small group that had gathered around. "You didn't hear or see anything while you were on guard?"

Clint thought back. "There was one time I thought I heard somethin', but didn't turn out to be nothin'."

The Boss turned to the watch again, his thumb rubbing over the engravings in such a harsh and rough fashion that it seemed as if he were trying to rub the etchings right off. "Who told you about the hit?" he asked of Clint.

"I did, sir," Travis spoke up from the edge of the group, hoping he hadn't inadvertently done something wrong.

"Where?"

"On the edge of the clearing, opposite here."

The cold hard glint of vengeful satisfaction returned to the man's face. "Gentlemen, our plans appear to have just changed."


	17. Chapter 17

~CHAPTER 17~

It was an odd turn of events to be sure. Odd... Roy harrumphed. More like downright unbelievable; in all his born days he'd never heard anything like it before. You could have knocked him over with a feather when the boys had revealed their suspicions to him. Benjamin Thomas Cartwright, his dear old friend... not dead after all this time. Throw any other cockamamie idea at him and he would've accepted it easier than he had that one. He had to admit it all made sense, though. If it really did happen the way they described, the plan was indeed an ingenious one. Anybody that looked at the crash of the buckboard would've told you no one could have survived it, and the finding of the coat made it all the more believable. Even though the plan of execution had been seamless, Roy couldn't have helped but have misgivings about being the one to tell the boys of Ben's death. There was no way he could've known, of course, but still... it hadn't set well with him.

It had been quite the startling revelation Adam had presented to him, with Hoss and Joe filling in places that were lacking, and he admired their alacrity, even if it meant getting him up in the middle of the night. It had taken until a few short hours before dawn for them to tell all that they had found out since their last meeting; it had taken Roy's mind almost that much time again to process it all. He smiled, remembering the boys' exuberance when he himself had felt as tired as Rip Van Winkle. He couldn't have been happier once he finally cleared the fogginess of sleep from his old brain and understood what they were trying to tell him.

No wonder each one of them looked more hopeful than any other time he could remember. He hoped that their theory was true, for their sakes if for nothing else. Just the thought of seeing them go through another funeral, even if only in their minds, made him miserable. They were good boys... boys. He harrumphed again... they were men now. And yet what he saw in their faces last night could've fooled him into thinking he was seeing the eager faces of the boys he had had the pleasure of knowing the whole time they were growing up.

While he and his men watched the barn and waited for the arrival of the gang, all of whom except one were coming Adam said, he and his brothers would head up to the camp in hopes of freeing the hostage. Simple... in fact that's probably what was making him so edgy. It almost seemed too simple, too easy. He felt an ever growing sensation at the base of his neck that something was going to go wrong. He shook his head at himself. _You old fool. You're getting to be as bad as an old lady spendin' all her time in a rockin' chair._ _You otta have more confidence than that._ It was a well thought-out plan, definitely one that had the Cartwright touch to it. He chuckled wryly and shook his head. Honestly, he didn't know what was keeping that eldest boy going, or any of them going really. He knew they all inherited that strong Cartwright constitution from their Pa, but still…

Before they left his home that morning in an attempt to get back to the Ponderosa before daybreak, Roy had suggested they all try and get some rest before the events the night would bring. Whether they'd take his advice or would even be able to, was doubtful. He knew he couldn't get back to sleep, and could only imagine how Adam, Hoss and Joe must've spent the rest of the morning.

The horse beneath him shifted as it continued on the little-used trail. "Easy there, Colt," he soothed. "Don't need both of us bein' jumpy. I am enough already for the both of us." The dapple gray beneath him quieted but still trotted nervously, as if sensing where they were going and what trouble they would more than likely find there. Roy took out his watch and looked at it, noting that he and his posse were right on time. The sun had just started its descent, the shadowed hollows began to fill with darkness.

Adam hadn't remembered the two men say an exact time when they had planned to enact their deed, but they planned on getting into position well in advance, just in case. Although going around the long way had taken extra time, he had been warned where the lookout had been stationed and made sure to take the alternate, although longer, route to the Ponderosa to avoid the chance of being seen. He heard the mounts behind him snort and his men blow into their gloved hands. There was no likelihood of a storm, though. Roy noticed there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but there was no moon either, just dim stars dotted the dark blanket.

Through the trees ahead he could see the form of the back of the ranch house take shape. Turning in his saddle, he whispered to his men. "We're gettin' close now. When we get there, stake your horses in the trees, and take your positions." The men nodded their affirmation before taking their rifles from their scabbards. Good men, all of them, and quite a fair-sized group for a posse. Never before had he seen such a show of support, when every single man he asked to volunteer had accepted most readily. Although he told them of the hostage situation and what was to be expected of them, he did not say who that hostage was suspected to be. Best to let as little a group as possible know, just in case... well, just in case their hopes were unfounded.

They were no more than twenty yards from the house, the outline of the barn coming into view now, one they would watch closely for some time to come.

* * *

Adam looked out the window at the ever darkening sky and hoped that Roy and his posse would appear soon. He put his hand into the customary pocket for his watch, and to his surprise found an empty lining. Strange... he didn't remember taking it out. But then again, he didn't remember putting it in either. He quickly rifled through the rest of his pants pockets and then those of his coat, no watch to be found in any of them. He shrugged it off; maybe he had forgotten to put it in his pants pocket, maybe he'd left it on his nightstand. He couldn't recall the last time he had seen it. Rubbing his eyes, he now wished he had forced himself to try and sleep a bit more that morning as Roy suggested. He had gotten a few snatches of rest when they had gotten back from town; so had his brothers, but he didn't know what good it had done them. They felt sure the intensity of the adrenaline that ran through each of their bodies was enough to keep them going for some time to come.

"Hey, Adam." Joe's voice from the bunkhouse door brought him out of his thoughts. "I think Roy's coming."

"Alright, Joe. I'll be right there," he answered from the dark behind the desk in the great room as he turned from looking out the front yard window. Adam couldn't quite keep the nervous desperation out of his voice, and Joe noticed.

As his brother passed through the door he still held open, Joe reached out and touched Adam's arm to stop him. "You ok?" he asked as he peered closer at his brother through the gloom.

Turning to him, Adam replied huskily, "I'm fine, Joe." Joe reached out and grasped Adam by the forearms.

"Don't worry, Adam. We'll get him back. Pa's coming home." To Joe, there was no point in trying to keep the exuberance out of his voice. In his mind, the hostage they were going to rescue was none other than their Pa, and they were going to be able to see him again, to touch his strong arms in an eager hug again, and to look into the warm eyes that were thought lost.

Adam smiled gently at his younger brother before giving Joe's hand a reassuring pat. Joe smiled once more before going over and opening the bunkhouse's back door that lead to the rear of the house as Adam followed behind. Hoss materialized from the shadows of the house and met them as Roy's party drew up, among whom were Charlie and several of the Ponderosa hands in another healthy show of their loyalty to the Cartwright family. All movements were made quickly and quietly. Even though it was just past dusk and the awaited time was not for some time, all felt the innate need to remain quiet and secretive as if the very pines had ears. Few words were needed once all had dismounted and prepared to take their positions. Adam had conveyed it all to Roy that morning, and he in turn had informed the men of where they needed to be and what they should do when their quarry came.

The Cartwrights were all ready to leave on their mission. Since they needed to walk a fair piece on foot so the horses wouldn't attract attention, they planned to leave almost as soon as it got completely dark. As the time approached and Adam, Hoss and Joe entered the woods where they had left their saddled horses. Roy followed them and watched as they mounted.

"I sure do wish I was goin' with you boys," he said, regretting that he couldn't be in two places at once.

"It's alright, Roy," Joe answered as he checked his gun one last time.

"I know, but... you don't think you should take a coupla the others a long with yuh?"

"No, Sheriff. Reckon we can handle it by ourselves," Hoss replied, knowing full well that they alone should be the ones to go up. Roy nodded understandingly.

"You just be careful, yuh hear?" The concern in his voice was evident.

"We will," Hoss nodded. Roy handed him the reins to the extra horse they were taking with them. Even in the dim moonlight, Roy could make out Ben's saddle on the familiar buckskin. _Please let it be him _he thought to himself before the three turned and faded into the dark forest, leaving Roy alone.

* * *

Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I'll hopefully have another up soon. Things are picking up and won't really let up from here on out, and yes a bit more frustration on the parts of those involved yet to come as well. ;)

Thank you again cma1, AureaD, BJ2 and BettyHT for all of the wonderful reviews! It's great reading your thoughts and inputs on the turn of events.


	18. Chapter 18

Another shortie I know, but I should have the next chapter up sometime tomorrow! Enjoy!

* * *

~CHAPTER 18~

It was hard enough to ride in the woods at night, but it was even harder when you weren't even following a trail. It took the brothers close to an hour to make it back to the spot where Adam had started to follow Jesse. Soundlessly they dismounted and tied their horses in the brush, far from any path, and just as Adam had done the night before, the three crept up the hillside. Another half hour found them looking at the same corral where the gang's horses were kept. And there they would wait. They sat in the dark and cold for close to another hour before voices were heard up the path and one by one, four men appeared. The brothers tensed and sank deeper into the shadows. Adam recognized two of the three he had seen last night, along with two others. Short calls were made amongst them while they quickly set to work saddling five of the seven beasts in the corral. They had just completed the task when they were joined by one more, undoubtedly the leader. They all strained to get a better glimpse of him, but in the dark they were unable to make out anything more than his size which would've been formidable to all except Hoss perhaps. He mounted, ordering the others to do likewise before all five started down the path that led to the ranch house.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Once they were clear away without even their horses' hoof beats to be heard anymore, Hoss blew a sigh out through his teeth. "So far, so good."

Joe nodded. "What are we waiting for?"

"Nothing," Adam replied, glancing first at Joe, then at Hoss. "Let's go."

* * *

It'd been around two hours since they left. Adam, Hoss and Joe should've arrived at their destination. Some of the men Roy stationed in the hayloft listened for any sound of approaching footsteps. The ranch's foreman peered around the side of the house, the entire barn in his field of vision. Roy gazed at the unsuspecting yard that seemed satisfied to remain quiet for the rest of the night. The hoot of a nearby owl sounded through the air and fell on unresponsive ears. The murmur of the tall pines was so constant and steady that the watchers barely took notice of it anymore. Fast-moving clouds had begun to roll in overhead to blot out even the tiny light provided by the few stars. The time had to be getting close...

* * *

There was the lone guard pacing out in front of the cave. With a silent nod from Adam, Hoss and Joe parted, Joe coming around from the left, Hoss from the right, both being as silent as the grave. As the guard reached the end of his walk and turned to strut back the other way, he felt the cold, hard mouth of a gun at his neck. "Don't move unless you want your head blown off," Joe warned quietly, surprised at how deadly calm his voice sounded. The man froze, not budging an inch while Joe wrenched the rifle from his grasp. Hoss appeared from the other side with a coil of rope while Adam started out across the clearing. By the time he reached the cave opening, the two had the man effectively hogtied and gagged.

With the guard taken care of, it seemed as if the last obstacle between them and their prize was removed. Turning together, the three ran into the cave. Barely any light was coming from outside anymore, and they could hardly see their hands in front of their faces. Joe caught sight of some lanterns at the cave opening, and he rushed over to them. He struck a match and lighted two, giving one to Adam while he lifted the other high above his head. Much to their horror, they found the cave empty.

"Spread out. Look everywhere," Adam said as the other two already started looking into the darker corners. Lifting his own light high above, Adam started for a second opening he spotted further back in the recesses of the cave. There he found an old grimy cot and a set of manacles fastened to a metal ring embedded into the rock wall. Adam's heart seemed to stop, his mouth open in utter shock. Where was he? Where was his father? _He was supposed to be here_ his mind screamed as he deftly walked over and knelt down to pick up one of the manacles. He immediately noticed it was spotted with long-dried blood.

Suddenly a soft thump, followed by a groan from the adjoining room reached his befuddled mind. He just started turning, when something hard was smashed into the side of his face, creating a plethora of light before he slumped to the cold floor.

* * *

How long had it been? It had to be close to daybreak by now. The sky had already taken on that unnatural darkness customary of the hour or two before dawn, and still there was no sign of any movement from the path. Roy took off his hat and wiped the inside band with his neckerchief, belying the frigid temperatures by the fact that he was sweating like a horse that had just run a mile. Where were they? He tried to keep it out of his thoughts, but the needling idea that something had gone terribly wrong returned to strike him again and again.

The thick cloud cover that had rolled in now choked off the sun's rays as they first started to show themselves on the eastern horizon. And yet the woods that surrounded the barn and the barn itself were so still... unsettlingly still. Something must've happened. They should've come by now. _Somebody_ should've come by that time. Roy slammed his clenched first into the palm of his other hand, self-reproach evident on his face at not acting sooner on a situation obviously gone awry.

He turned to the three men beside him. "Go tell Charlie and Hoyt to stay where they are and keep watch. Have the rest get their horses and meet me here." He spoke hurriedly, knowing they didn't have a minute to lose as he admonished himself for waiting as long as he had. He knew what needed to be done now though, and tried to make that his only concern, blocking from his mind all the possible reasons for the inactivity at the Cartwright ranch, none of them having a calming or reassuring effect upon the wise and experienced lawman. In no time at all, the men and Roy set out for the mountain. Just as a precaution, Adam had told him where the cave was located in case something should happen. Well, Roy felt sure that "something" _had_ happened, and they didn't spare the horses in traveling up the steep hillside. They came upon a clearing where an empty corral was situated among the rock, its door swinging freely with the wind. Roy put his hand up to stop. "He said it wasn't too far from here. Dismount." Once the horses were sufficiently hidden, Roy spread his men out in both directions to flank the cave he knew to be a bit farther up the hill.

The entire situation felt wrong. Why were the horses all gone if they hadn't come to the barn that night? Could Adam have gotten his information wrong about where the hit was to take place? But even if they had gone somewhere else, the boys still should've gotten back to the ranch by then.

The cave front slowly came into view as the first traces of light broke the morning fog. There was still no sign of anyone. Roy motioned to his men and they all abruptly stepped into the clearing to find it completely empty, with no sign of anyone ever having been there. Roy stepped up to the mouth of the cave and motioned another man to the opposite side. At the same time they swung around into the large cavern, empty as far as the natural light would allow them to see. There was something dark on the floor, but he couldn't quite make it out. Spying a lantern on its side near the entrance, Roy knelt and lit it before looking around the interior again. The dark spots on the floor instantly showed their crimson color in the light. Blood. Roy looked quickly around the rest of the cave and it proved empty except for the long cold remains of a campfire evident on the stone floor. Seeing another room towards the back, Roy rushed into it, swinging his gun in all directions, but it too was empty except for an abandoned cot in the corner.

"Sheriff! Come look at this," one of his deputies shouted to him through the cave entrance. Rushing back outside, the deputy handed him a small object. "We found it sitting on a rock over there," he motioned to a pile of boulders on the edge of the clearing. Fear instantly gripped Roy's heart as he turned the silver watch over and read the engraved initials A.C. on the front of it. Now they had all of them...

* * *

_I'm very sorry for all of the cliffhangers; it's bad of me I know, but it's so much fun to write them! Thank you all so much for the reviews._

_Guest - Even though Adam missing his watch might seem very un-Adamlike, I tried really bringing out the fact that he himself probably hasn't slept much in the past 3 days, and even good ol' Adam can't carry on like that._

_BJ2 - You're so funny. No, I really have nothing against your nails! lol Stop biting! I know this chapter didn't help much, but all will hopefully be revealed and straightened out soon. ;)_

_BettyHT - Sorry for the delay in posting. LIke I said hopefully tomorrow I'll have 19 up. :)_

_LukeBryanFan - I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. Thank you for the review and the favorite!_

_Tauna - Thank you for your review! Yes, it would be a hard blow indeed if they've come this far just to lose him for real. Stay tuned to find out!_

_AureaD - I don't think the realization came to Adam early enough. That dastardly watch just had to get lost! lol_


	19. Chapter 19

I decided to post this one a bit early since I'm gonna be kinda busy tomorrow. Enjoy! Thank you for all your reviews, and I'll be sure'n reply to them all when I get some more time. :)

~CHAPTER 19~

He didn't known what time it was, but any time wouldn't have made the happenings around him any less surprising. They were breaking up camp! In his room alone the restraints on his wrists only allowed him a narrow line of sight into the larger cavern, but he distinguished hurried voices and footsteps accompanied with flickering ghostlike shadows on the walls as the men suddenly started to busy themselves. Of all the months that he had been this man's prisoner, he had never seen his men sound so rattled or McWhorter, so pleased. Suddenly, one of the men, he couldn't tell which one, approached him and he felt the manacles around his wrists suddenly unlock, and he was hauled to his feet, unsteady from sitting on the hard stone for so long. He noticed that his wrists looked unfamiliar to him; it had been so long since he'd seen them, now so bruised from the constant rubbing and constriction of the iron rings.

He was pushed out of the cave and beheld the shining stars that dotted the night sky for the first time in weeks. For some reason, just the sight of the long-forgotten beauty of the heavens shrouded with the quiet and peaceful darkness of night gave him hope, an unexplainable hope that soon, maybe, just maybe he might be reunited with his loved ones. The remembrance of sitting out under the stars and pointing out the very constellations he now gazed at to each one of his boys when they were young brought a thread of warmth and comfort to him. Some things never changed. No matter what happened to him, for indeed the hope of seeing them again was a foolish one, he'd still have his memories. That they could never take away from him.

Ben held on to that thought even as they retied his hands in front of him and to the pommel of the same saddle and horse he had ridden when they had brought him there. In all this time they never felt the need to move him, and yet now, they were not only moving him, but it looked like everyone was moving out under the cover of the darkness. Something must have happened to make them feel that they were no longer safe there. That knowledge gave him another inkling of hope, but it was almost dashed when he saw the cool and collected smirk on Jason McWhorter's face as he issued orders to his men for their departure.

Before Ben was taken off, he was given a very pointed stare from the man, one that chilled him to his very core. He had realized for some time that the man was mad, mad with his lust for revenge; but what was he planning now? The thought that it had something to do with his sons couldn't help but creep its way into Ben's already worry-consumed mind. He felt as if they were all putty in the man's hands. All Ben had been going on these weeks was the status quo that as long as he did whatever was required of him, his sons would remain safe, even if all they had worked for came to ruin around them. The stare soon developed into a full grin and then an outright sadistic chuckle which turned Ben's blood to water. He was about to utter something to the man when his eyes were covered with a filthy rag and his horse was pulled along in some unknown direction.

The activities behind him in the camp continued, and he could distinguish the beat of just one other horse besides his own. Apparently he had only a one man escort. They rode on for some time, just how long Ben couldn't tell, but he could feel the sun just start to grace his chilled and tired body when he heard wooden planks beneath the horses' hooves. He was prodded to dismount and was pushed into a sitting position where his hands were retied behind him and the blindfold taken off.

It was then he discovered that he was now in an old barn, and by the looks of the empty stalls, loose flooring and musty smell in the air, it appeared to be one long-since abandoned. Undoubtedly it appeared the group had been there before. Ben's guard knew exactly where to find whatever he needed, and in the front tack room, Ben could make out maps and drawings of the Ponderosa. He involuntarily gritted his teeth when he realized this was where Jason McWhorter must have made all his great plans, devised the stages of its execution and drew out the areas of attack on his home and his family.

Above his growing apprehension over everything around him was the unexplainable question of why they moved him there in the first place. Maybe someone had gotten wind of them, and they no longer felt safe in the cave. That would explain the men's wariness, but what about McWhorter's seemingly pleased attitude? No, not just pleased... contented and self-satisfied attitude. Whenever he saw that look in him, fear for his family coursed through his body. What was he planning now? Ben dwelt on that question throughout the day and into the night. His guard paid him little enough attention. He spent his time straightening the place for the others whom he apparently expected to arrive soon.

Night came, however, and still there was no sign of anyone. After a while Ben found himself start to nod and he brought his knees up in an attempt to keep out the night chill. He soon fell asleep in that position. It was still dark when he was awakened by the young guard. Ben figured he would've been sleeping just as soundly as himself, but instead found him up and about, pacing like a caged animal. There was a small candle lit on the table in the middle of the room, and by its meager glow Ben could see him go to the wide stable door and open it periodically to peer out into the darkness an anxious waiting for someone to appear.

He was younger than the rest. Ben had seen him a few times before, and each time felt sorry that he should be mixed up in something like this. He couldn't be much older than Joe, and yet he would probably already be condemned for life for going in with a man like Jason McWhorter.

As the man whose Ben's attention was focused so strongly on turned back from the door to sit down at the table once again, he looked in Ben's direction and saw that he was now awake and looking at him. He seemed to be annoyed at having been caught worrying, and sat roughly back down at the table, not looking at Ben again. The lad looked frightened. For a few moments, Ben couldn't help but compare him with his youngest, couldn't help but think of what a wasted life he was living. Maybe there was some way he could help him, and at the same time, help himself.

"They're still not coming, huh," Ben suddenly spoke up. The young man turned and looked at him, shock written on his face. He didn't like the look Ben gave him and he quickly turned away with no reply. "Because it's your friends you're waiting for, isn't it?" Still no reply. "Well, it seems pretty dull with just the two of us. What's your name?" That got a reaction, but not the one Ben had hoped for. The young guard suddenly turned and glared at Ben.

"Look, what are you tryin' to do, talkin' to me? You're our prisoner; you shouldn't talk at all, and certainly not to me. So why don't you just keep your mouth shut." Under normal circumstances Ben would've complied, but it seemed as if the boy had reacted out of fear and not hostility. Ben could only imagine what was causing that fear. He ventured another try.

"The Boss didn't tell you to keep me from talking, did he? Since we're both up, I see no reason why we can't at least talk for a bit," he started in as congenial a voice as he could muster under the circumstances. "It's been a long time since I've even done that."

The lad jerked his head around again, annoyance in his young eyes, but after looking at him for several seconds, he grunted. "Fine, as long as you don't bother me."

"Fair enough," Ben replied. At least he was open to conversation. Maybe he'd have a chance after all. "What's your name? I'm assuming you already know mine." The lad retrieved his gun from its holster and prepared to clean it, before he answered.

"Travis. And yeah, of course I know who you are."

"Travis." Ben repeated. "First or last name?"

"It's just Travis," he replied hotly. Ben nodded.

"I imagine your friends are out on that run. And considering the number of times you've looked out that door, they should've been back by now."

"Doesn't matter. They'll get here when they get here." He started to unload the chambers with an assumed air of confidence in his voice and actions.

"Mmm. So, how do you know Jason McWhorter?" The steady click of the gun's cylinder spinning sounded before he received an answer.

"Don't see where that's any concern o' yours."

"Just curious is all. No harm in that."

Travis sighed before stopping his motions temporarily. "I didn't _know_ him... just the friend of a convict of another convict that I became involved with. Needed help, sounded like a good pay-off, and so here I am."

"Well, where's your family?"

"Don't have none," was the short reply.

"I see." Ben decided he wouldn't get far going that route. The easiest way was to just plow through and hope for the best. "Well, why did they leave you to guard me?"

"How should I know!" he yelled. It was a much stronger reaction than Ben expected. A nerve had obviously been struck. Travis had come out of his chair slightly, but now he retook his seat, breathing a little heavily.

What Ben didn't know is that he wasn't supposed to be watching him. He had been assigned to go on the mission with them with Clint being the one on guard, but then things had changed. Whether McWhorter had felt that they needed an older man to help with the Cartwright boys or whether he guessed "the kid" couldn't handle the pressure, Travis didn't know. Maybe that's why he was so jumpy. Did he suspect that he might be losing his nerve for this sort of thing that he might freeze up when the time came to do what that night undoubtedly would call for. "How should I know why he chose me?" he repeated a little more calmly. "I don't give the orders I just obey 'em."

"I see," Ben commented. Time to press a little more. "What were the orders tonight?" Travis looked at him. "Do you really think I could do anything about it if I knew?" Ben asked moving slightly to display how effectively he'd been tied.

"I don't know," he lied. "Just a regular job, I guess." He went back to cleaning his gun.

"Then why so jumpy?" The gun clanked against the table as Travis's sweaty fingers lost their grip on the handle.

"I'm not. And look, you're startin' to bother me now," he shot another angry look Ben's way.

"Just asking simple questions. If everything's going along perfectly, then why move me?"

"I don't make the orders," Travis returned to an old answer.

"Course you don't, but my guess is that you don't agree with these new orders." The chair overturned on the floor as Travis lurched to his feet.

"Look you, I've had just about all I wanna take! You don't know nothin' about me or what's goin' on." Again, Ben saw nothing but fear in the boy's eyes. He was so shaken he didn't realize that in his haste to quiet Ben he brandished an empty gun, its bullets still lay on the table. "Now are you gonna shut up or do I need to gag you?"

Ben decided to press his luck a bit further. "Listen, you're young. You don't wanna be here. You've got your whole life ahead of you. Don't throw it away now. You know this crazy idea of McWhorters'll never work."

"It's been workin' fine!"

"He'll drag you down with him."

"No!" Travis was standing over Ben now, the empty gun in his hand still leveled at him.

"Listen, I can help you. You know the law will catch up with McWhorter. Do you want to be caught on the side of a thief, a rustler and a murderer?"

Travis gasped and let the gun sag in his hand. "You can't help me," he said finally, despairingly, "nobody can help me." His torn mind went back to the night Sam died. He knew that could so easily happen to him. One false move...

"Travis..." He turned his eyes back to Mr. Cartwright, the man who had been their prisoner for so long. He looked pitiful now, tied to a beam, sunken eyes. How will he feel when he finds out about his sons? "I _can_ help you. If you help me."

"I can't. You can't."

"Yes," Ben nodded, plowing ahead before the lad had any more time to change his mind. "I can try'n clear you, if you help me. Help me escape, and I promise I'll put in a good word for you. You won't take blame for any of this, but you must help me."

Travis held his head in his hands for the longest time in an attempt to slow the torrent of thoughts. After several minutes of moving back and forth and labored breaths, he turned to Ben. Indecision riddled his eyes. He was about to speak when the sound of horses approaching was heard. The two men's eyes widened and Travis hurriedly picked up his gun he'd left on the table and reloaded it, not wanting to get caught with an empty weapon.

"Travis?" Ben asked as he headed for the door. He turned back, his mouth set in a grim line, not saying anything. He slowly opened the door, letting in some very early dawn light mingled with mist as the riders stopped outside.

* * *

Roy gazed at the timepiece in his hand for a split second more before looking up and gazing all around him, impatient and angry breaths stealing from between his lips. "Don't just stand there," he ordered to the men almost franticly. "Spread out. See if you can find any tracks leading away from here, broken brush, trampled grass, anything." The men hurried off in all directions while Roy looked to the pile of rocks where the watch had been found. This gang knew they were coming. They had to have! If Adam had dropped the watch as a sign to him, he wouldn't have left it in such an obvious spot, since it might've been found by someone other than friends. But how? How did they know they were coming? The question frightened him. If this McWhorter was that far ahead of them...

"Sheriff..." Roy jerked his head up at the call. His hand that held the watch was shaking. Those boys had trusted him. They had trusted him with their lives, and now... now, they were taken, just like Ben had been. Roy knew there was no telling what that madman planned to do with them. But he knew one thing, that it was all his fault for waiting too long. All he could do was just pray that he could find them in time, but that hope was short-lived.

"Sheriff, we... we didn't find any tracks."

"What in Sam Hill are you talkin' about? They had to leave on horses, there ain't none in that corral, and horses leave tracks, now find 'em!"

"Sheriff, we've looked. The ground's hard as rock with how cold it's been. I mean, there's no signs at all. We branched out over fifty yards in every direction. It's like they just vanished. What I'm sayin' is... we have no idea which way they went. I'm sorry, Sheriff."

The watch fell from Roy's hand.


	20. Chapter 20

~CHAPTER 20~

Roy didn't even think this was possible. What was happening? It wasn't just a matter of whether or not they could reach the Cartwrights and this gang in time. Now he didn't even know where they had gone, or which way they were headed. A quick look around the perimeter himself had just confirmed what the men had already told him. There weren't even any traces you would expect in and around the area of a campsite, let alone any discernible ones leading away in any direction. The helplessness washing over Roy was all-consuming. He was supposed to protect the people in his town, his family. The Cartwrights were more than that, though. Ben felt like more than just a friend, and the boys came as close to sons as he'd ever known; and now he was powerless to help them. He didn't know if they were even alive anymore, any of them.

"Sheriff Coffee?" all the men in the posse were just as uneasy as he. They wanted to be told something to do, not just stand around while the Cartwrights were obviously in danger. Roy looked at them. What was he supposed to do? He had nowhere to go. Any direction was as good as another at that point. He didn't have enough men to go in all directions, but the longer they took to think about it, the farther the devils were getting ahead of them.

"Gimme a minute. I have to think." The men tried to wait patiently as Roy stood silently in front of the cave. He had ordered another more thorough search of the interior already, revealing nothing more to help them. Roy gazed up at the gray and dreary sky. Although he couldn't see the sun, he knew it was full dawn. But even the light of day could not help them now.

Running a hand over his dampened face, he was unaware of the men suddenly becoming quiet as a silent visitor walked into camp and stood boldly in their midst.

"Sheriff!" one of the men called to him urgently as they all gripped their rifles tighter and uneasily laid hands on the butts of their pistols. Roy looked up and beheld a tall Indian standing right in front of him, a Paiute by the looks of him.

"Lawman of the white men?" he spoke to Roy rather quickly and suddenly.

"Yes," Roy answered, stark shock displayed on his face.

"My name Wavoka, of the Paiute." By this time several other Indians, fully armed but adorning no war paint just as their leader, had come into the circle, taking no notice of the opened mouths of the thunderstruck men around them. "Come," their leader spoke again. "I lead you to men." The Indian started turning as if fully expecting the others to follow.

"Wait," Roy called. Wavoka turned, annoyed by the delay. "Wavoka... yes, Adam told me about you. You were the one who found their cattle?"

"I am."

"They were taken. The Cartwrights... How do you know that? How do you know where they are?" The plain shock of seeing so many Indians and apparently on their side was overwhelming and couldn't stand without an explanation.

"The dark one. Adam Cartwright."

"Adam?"

Wavoka continued before Roy could say anything more. "Adam Cartwright know someone follow them, know Wavoka of Paiute is honorable. He ask Wavoka to watch them as well. He say, if anything happen, tell lawman of white men. They are taken. Wavoka show you where they are. Come now. Paiute follow them." The Indian's words, although clipped as Indian speech often is, couldn't have been received by more thankful ears. Roy chuckled in disbelief at the very idea and surprising revelation of their unexpected benefactor. Ingenious... the insurance policy, if you will, of the boys had paid off. Who better to keep a caring though undetectable watch over them for a change than the silent and unassuming Indian, always roaming the hills and seeing more than anyone gave them credit for.

"Thank goodness for them boys," Roy breathed, his eyes becoming damp over the sheer relief their precaution had given him. "Wavoka, you saved my neck. I'll thank you proper later... once we get our friends back."

Wavoka's black eyes showed no more emotion than they had since he arrived. At first, he did not understand why Adam had insisted that if something did happen to them that they go to this white man. White men in his eyes were unreliable and dishonorable. Very few were contrary to that general belief, Ben Cartwright and his sons being among them. Wavoka realized that Adam didn't want to endanger his Paiute friends for their sakes, which is why he asked him only to observe the camp of these men, and not to intervene directly. Wavoka wondered about the trust he had placed in this white lawman they call "Roy". The more Wavoka observed him, though, the more he reminded him of Ben Cartwright. As he nodded to Roy, who just might've earned the respect of a Paiute, he understood the trust Adam had placed in him.

"Come."

* * *

_The first thing he was aware of was the constant jarring and wracking his whole body was subject to. His mind was a haze... he tried to move his hand to run across his face... to hold his head and calm the pounding behind his eyes, but he couldn't. He couldn't move anything actually. The pressure in his head was all consuming... he felt as if he'd been standing on his head all night. What was wrong with him? He tried grasping some remembrance of why he now felt the way he did, but everything annoyingly eluded him. He moaned as the jarring became suddenly acute, the sound of his own weak voice sounding very distant. The movement stopped suddenly, but it didn't do him any good. Welcome unconsciousness took him._

_When he woke again, the same pains and discomforts washed over him, but this time he at least made an attempt to hold onto lucidity. The next thing he could distinguish was sound... the sound of horses' hooves, randomly shifting between a trot and a walk. The realization struck him that he must be on a horse because the rhythm of the horse's gait matched the jolts to his body and in particular his stomach. He tried moving his hands again, and this time realized with sudden horror that they were tied to something, as were his legs for he couldn't move them either. The feeling of taught rope around his wrists and ankles sifted through to his befuddled mind._

_As if everything suddenly snapped into place, he figured out that he was tied stomach down over a saddle, which accounted for the uneasiness and the very present threat of being sick. He tried to push the feeling down for he also found he was tightly gagged as well. But what happened? Where was he? Who had done this to him? The cave! They had been exploring the cave, when... he gasped behind the cloth in his mouth. Where were his brothers... where was his father? He slowly managed to pry his eyelids open, finding what felt like a dried substance encrusting the corner of his right eye. His vision was blurry and the world spun before him, accented by the short chops of his horse's trot. He shut his eyes quickly again, nausea rising up in his throat. He remained still, hoping the feeling would soon pass. Slowly managing to turn his head to look up past his horse, he re-opened his eyes into slits and the blurred colors slightly came into view through the dimness around him. The motion of several horses all around him came in and out of focus. Ahead of him... there was another figure... over another horse... Hoss! He'd know his big brother's shape anywhere. It did him little good to see his big brother trussed up just like himself. Even though the sight added another worry, it also brought a feeling of comfort somewhat. At least he was still alive, and they were together. But where was Joe? After an almighty effort to turn his head back in the opposite direction, his heart quickened when he couldn't see any sign of Joe behind him either. With the blow to his head greatly slowing his thought processes and forgetting the gag in his mouth, he tried calling his little brother's name._

Clint looked down at the dark-haired Cartwright next to him when he heard a muffled grunt come from the man's down-turned head. Hollering up to the head of the line, he called, "Hey, Boss. This one's comin' around again. Reckon, we otta stop?"

"No. We stop when we get there." Clint made no other effort on behalf of the man whose discomfort was so evident.

_Voices... the voices seemed just as distant as his groan had. Why was that? They were right next to him. Didn't matter... he had to find Joe. Hoss was alright... where was... Suddenly finding no more energy within himself to stay conscious any longer, his head dropped to the side of the saddle once again, his cheek bumping against the rough leather as the group plodded on, and the sleep that had eluded him for the past few days now claimed him with a vengeance._

About a half hour later the group arrived at the site of an abandoned homestead, fairly open from the front, but set back amid dense trees behind. Where a field of crops had been was now nothing more than a thick area of high grasses that blew in the wind. Off to the side of the field stood the charred remains of what used to be a house, black and deteriorated from many a long year subjected to the weather. Obviously the result of some sort of Indian attack long ago, the broken shafts of telltale arrows still pierced some of the decayed beams. The only thing still left standing was a weathered barn, nestled back between some pines. The entire place had a ghostly and eerie feel to it that made one shiver just to see it. The company came to a halt in front of the barn.

"Hurry up. Get them off and inside," McWhorter called. Hank dismounted and went to undo the first Cartwright's knots when the door to the barn slowly opened to reveal Travis. Glancing at the Boss standing out in front, the lad quickly skirted around him and over to Hank.

"Good, you're back. I thought you had trouble. What took so long?"

"Them," Hank motioned to their prisoners. "Kept having to stop. Clint got a little too carried away in knockin' 'em."

"Did the Boss do anything about it?"

"I thought he would at first, but he just let it go. Help me with this, will yuh?"

_He felt hands grope at the ropes around him. As they pulled in one collective effort, he felt himself fall and the cold hard earth slam into him, the men obviously not feeling the need to catch him. He could hear rough laughs above him as he found he still couldn't move. Every muscle ached with a burning sensation from being subjected to such a position for so long. The hands were on him again re-tying his own behind him before he was yanked upwards, eliciting a wasted groan to which no one paid attention. He looked up through blurred vision around him for his brothers, but in particular, for some reason, Joe. There they were! Both of them were being carried ahead of him... and both appeared unconscious. He let his head drop again. At least they were all being taken to the same place apparently; that was the most important thing, but how could it have happened? He failed them, and his Pa. Suddenly the clean, chilled air of the outdoors was squelched by a stifling mustiness, and the ground became smooth as if they had stepped into a building.  
_  
_"Adam!_" _He heard his name... a familiar voice. He dragged his head up once more, the edge of unawareness beginning to creep in again. He couldn't get his eyes to focus... They were now in a big building. Someone... Could it be? Pa? His view was cut off as he was pulled the rest of the way into a small room and dropped unceremoniously to the floor._

"Adam!" Ben yelled again in an effort to get through to his son. It'd been so long since he'd seen them. Ben was speechless as he saw each one of his boys brought into the barn. What had happened? What was wrong with them? What had McWhorter done to them? He had given his word! All of his worst fears were being realized. The men started filing back out of the tack room where they had taken his sons, the last being McWhorter himself. He looked over at Ben and grinned before slowly shutting the door to the small room that Ben occupied.

* * *

Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for all of the reviews! I'm ecstatic that you're all into the story this much. Well, at least the boys are with Ben now even though they don't really know it, and good ol' Wavoka came through again. Stay tuned for further developments! :)


	21. Chapter 21

~CHAPTER 21~

His head hit the hard floor and the ropes pulled at his arms as he landed heavily on his right side. The sluggish thuds of several boots could be heard through the splintery boards his ear was now pressed against as his captors shuffled away. Prying his eyes open again, he saw the blurry forms of several men walking away then heard the creak and rattle of the door shutting and the lock clicked into place. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brothers occupied the room with him, their breathing slow and steady. He had to be thankful for small blessings; at least they were leaving them alone for the time being. But where were they exactly? He turned his head to look above him, but the feeling his skull was about to split was too much for him, and he decided to not press his luck as he desperately wanted to remain conscious. Testing the ropes, he found they were attached to something behind him and realizing there was absolutely nothing for him to do, he relaxed his aching muscles and tried to clear his scattered thoughts. He heard muffled sounds from the other room and what sounded like a call at one time, but he couldn't be sure. He wished with all his might that he could get free so he could at least see how his brothers fared. The fact that he hadn't seen either one of them stir the entire time weighed heavily on his mind.

And that call... had he really heard his own name? Had he really seen Pa or had it been merely a delusion, the trick of an exhausted mind? Above all of his increasingly erratic thoughts there was one that was steadfast... he had failed them. He had failed his father... Hoss and Joe had trusted him and look where they were. Even as he drifted back into unconsciousness and couldn't say it aloud to their unhearing ears, his mind screamed _I'm sorry... _

Ben had feverishly worked at the ropes encircling his wrists ever since the door had closed on him, fear and desperation causing him to ignore the burns the taut ropes slowly created. After straining for what seemed like forever with still no slack in the rope, he finally stopped, willing himself to calm down and think clearly. What was he going to do? Everything had changed. He had resigned himself to his own fate long ago, but his sons... The sight of each one of them, unconscious, seriously injured for all he knew, being dragged in one at a time gnawed away at him, driving him almost to insanity over his inability to help them. After having not even a glimpse of them for months, this is the reunion he was forced to have with his boys. It was exactly what McWhorter wished to accomplish, and Ben knew it. He couldn't bear the thought of what he was planning to do, before a distant nightmare, now a terrible reality. How could a man be driven to bottle up so much hate inside of him? What kind of man had he really fought with in Illinois?

But above all of those questions, the one that drove him with a passion now was how was he going to get his sons out of this? He realized that McWhorter had just been toying with him, never really expecting to fulfill his promise to leave his sons alone, and that thought made his stomach churn. All this time the only thing that kept him going was the fact that his boys were still safe, no matter what they were put through. That was no longer true. He leaned his chin down upon his heaving chest, tears readily pooling in his eyes. _'I'm sorry.'_

* * *

Travis heard Ben Cartwright's cries to his sons and then saw McWhorter with a sadistic grin close the door on him and lock it. He looked around at the rest of the men that quickly filled the barn, realizing that he should probably start looking busy instead of staring at what would've been considered 'normal' actions to any of them, but actions that now began to disturb him. It was a desperate, dangerous game McWhorter was playing, and he knew it. He had thought that game was up when the watch had been found revealing the discovery of their camp, but it only seemed to take the danger and intensity to a whole new level. Now they had _all_ the Cartwrights!

The fact made his breath come quicker and his palms tingle with sweat. All of the exhausted men dropped down into their separate corners around him to fall asleep almost as soon as their eyes closed. Travis turned toward Ben Cartwright's door again and saw McWhorter move off into his own room in the front of the stables. Now they would all wait until the boss's next move, which he would tell them of in due time. There was really no reason to rush. No one knew where they were. No one was coming after them; the Boss made sure of that before they left the camp. While once he would have welcomed that knowledge, now it did nothing but unnerve him.

Seeing Clint's weary form start to go up into the loft for lookout duty, he hurried over to him. "Lemme do that, Clint. You've been out all night. Go get some rest."

Clint looked over at him before nodding. "Thanks, Trav," he yawned before shuffling off to his own blanket. Quickly, Travis scurried up the ladder and into the more open and, more importantly, unoccupied loft. Trying to make sense of his conflicting thoughts, he didn't stand watch as a lookout should but always stared straight ahead, periodically thumping his fist into the palm of his other hand. Why had he let Cartwright talk to him? Why was he letting that conversation get to him so much? Perhaps... perhaps he knew he was right all along. Old man Cartwright's words kept ringing true in his mind; he didn't want to be caught on McWhorter's side. In fact, the whole idea of his plan was now starting to revolt him, whether because of a fear of consequence or because the long dormant thread of conscience had been strung he didn't know. He knew the other men didn't care, though; all they wanted was the money they expected to gain from it, all of them seasoned professionals at such work, but he found himself caring less and less about that. When the Cartwrights had been brought in that night, he had watched old man Cartwright's face the whole time. He had seen the same look of anguish many times before, although never that strong; but now it tore into him like a whip. If he could ever say he saw a man age right before his eyes, it would've been then.

McWhorter was becoming less a fearless leader and more a deranged tormentor in his eyes, one that provoked only fear in everyone. He hadn't yet revealed to them what his new plan was, and right now he figured the men were too tired to care, but Travis had an idea of what it would be. He recognized the glint of satisfaction and power that filled his eyes more every passing day, and it frightened him. Cartwright was right; he wasn't going to wait around for the law to capture them and undoubtedly condemn them all to the gallows; and he definitely didn't want to go down for a man like McWhorter, even though it took nothing less than a simpleton to go against McWhorter. At this point, he had nothing to lose. If he stayed, it meant the gallows, that's if McWhorter decided not to kill all of them anyway just like he had Sam. But if he helped Cartwright, it could mean a possible starting over, a new life. The prospect of that outweighed the consequences any action he might take would bring, to finally fall against McWhorter. His mouth went dry. Could he really do it? Did he have the courage to even dare try? Everywhere he went it seemed he could feel McWhorter's black eyes peer into him, exposing him for the coward he was.

He stopped by the open loft door and leaned up against it, letting the cold wind cool his flushed face. But what could he do?

"Travis!"

He practically jumped as Hank called his name and made his hair stand on end at the nape of his neck. Turning, he desperately tried to compose his shattered nerves before he hollered down the ladder. "Yeah?"

"Need more firewood."

Nodding to himself, although no one was there to see it, he hurried over and started down. He had to think. This would be the perfect opportunity to get away from the sounds of the men and the knowledge that the entire Cartwright family was under lock and key a couple of rooms away, their very fate maybe in his hands. As he descended, he glanced out the loft window and was surprised to see it had gotten considerably darker. How long had he been up there?

Once he was down, he started across the hay-littered barn and found it difficult not to run past his counterparts in his haste to get out. At any moment he feared that one of them, even McWhorter himself, might jump in his path and confront him for his very thoughts. Finally making the seemingly endless journey of about only twenty feet to the door, he flipped open the bar and stepped out before shutting it behind him and taking a great gasp of the free, chilly air of the outside world.

To his surprise, the idea of running away right then and there came to him. He knew that he couldn't be part of it any more. The Cartwrights could fend for themselves. But then he thought, "What would that accomplish?" The fear of having both the law and McWhorter after him was too much for his frazzled mind to comprehend. If he could help the Cartwrights and somehow get out of this situation with his life, then he might have a chance.

He didn't know what to do! He pushed off from the door with a grunt, wanting the indecision to pass off of him just as easily as the wind that carelessly whipped through his hair. Knowing that the lookout from the loft where he had stood a moment before could see him, he started for the deeper recesses of the woods, kneeling to pick up the thicker branches to fuel the fire, his calm actions belying the whirlwind taking place in his head. He acted mechanically, his entire being striving to solve his dilemma, to do what was right for a change. But how? How was he going to accomplish that? More out of instinct than conscious thought, he headed several yards further into the woods for another clump of branches which he saw strewn on the ground of the darkened forest floor.

As he bent to pick them up, a steel arm wrapped itself around his throat without warning, cutting off his air and causing him to choke on a gasp. Dropping the bundle of wood, he immediately reached up to pry at the hardened grip on his windpipe, but his struggling ceased at once as the blade of a knife was smoothly pressed up under his jaw, immediately followed by a whisper in his ear, "No noise."

* * *

Yes, they're all together again and now it looks like what Ben said to Travis is getting through after all, but will it be enough?

Thank you sooo much for all of the reviews!

BJ2 - Yay, dance time! Just about. I had nearly forgotten about Wavoka too. lol Glad you liked his addition.

BettyHT - Yes, McWhorter becoming a more dangerous character with each passing chapter. The stakes are quite high now. I'm glad you liked Wavoka and Roy together. A clashing of the clans so to speak, but I enjoy that in stories when two unlikely characters have to come together.

Areader - It's reviews like these that writers absolutely love, a nice lengthy read that we can sink our teeth in to and tells a story of its own. I'm so happy you like my story and my apologies for now making you wait on chapters, but I usually update fairly quickly so hopefully the wait won't be too bad. Thank you very much for the compliments. Characterization is always key for me; if it's not on it'll throw me out of the story quicker than anything else so I'm very glad to hear that you liked mine. Stay tuned for more!

AureaD - I'm glad you liked chapter 20. Still got a bit more to go, but now at least there is hope. Hang on boys!


	22. Chapter 22

This was originally going to be two chapters, but neither one would've been very long so I'll just post it as one. :) Enjoy! And thank you cma and BettyHT for the reviews! A lot more is revealed in this chapter, but unfortunately it still has a cliffhanger of sorts, but not as bad as others. I don't know how that keeps happening. lol

* * *

~CHAPTER 22~

Travis wisely stopped trying to free himself, but the arm and knife stayed as he was taken deeper into the woods. Soon he heard the stamping and snorting of several horses. The arm was suddenly released, and he was finally able to stand straight and see around him. What met his stunned eyes was an unusual assortment of lawmen and Indians, Paiute by the looks of them. They were nestled together in a small opening amidst the thick clusters of trees deep in the woods, the barn practically out of sight. Turning suddenly, he noticed his captor to be a tall Indian. It appeared as if some of his captors had just arrived. Several were still mounted on winded and sweating steeds. One of the white men, whose silver badge glinted the word Sheriff, dismounted and came quickly toward him. All eyes were turned toward him, and he felt an increasing sense of foreboding, his palms growing cold with apprehension and his mouth dry from fright.

The Indian, whose knife was still pressed hard against Travis's spine, spoke in hurried Paiute to another, possibly even taller, redskin who had also just dismounted and was following close behind the gray-haired lawman. After some amount of information was passed between the two, the leader spoke. "He say he come out for wood."

The Sheriff, who came even closer, nodded, his bloodshot eyes piercing Travis's. "So you're one of the ones we've been trackin' for months," disgust and contempt could be heard clearly in the man's words, and they made Travis flinch under their effect and want to back away, but the knife halted any retreat. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

"Now you tell me. D'you have the Cartwrights in there?" Roy asked, poking him in the chest several times for emphasis before pointing back in the direction of the barn.

Not wanting to press his luck trying to talk, for he found he couldn't get his tongue unclamped from the roof of his mouth, Travis just nodded.

"They alright? Unharmed?" With a second nod, a look of sudden relief swept over the lawman's face. "Who's your leader?" he asked suddenly.

"Th-the boss..." Travis stuttered.

"What's his name?" Roy demanded.

"A man by the name of McWhorter. You wouldn't know him; he ain't from around here."

A hint of a smirk could be seen behind the Sheriff's salt and pepper mustache. "And how many of you are there?"

"But..." he was about to proclaim his innocence when the knife made its presence known again, causing him to arch his back as the steel hand on his arm squeezed harder.

"How many?" Roy persisted.

"S-six."

"Including you?"

Travis again nodded.

Roy looked away in the direction of the barn. A shiver of apprehension crept down his spine as he looked through the mist-shrouded forest to just glimpse the outer edges of the barn, where he'd been told, almost the second he arrived, the gang had holed themselves up. Wavoka came up beside him, waiting, listening. "Well Wavoka, looks like you were right. I jus' don't know how to thank yuh." Roy looked down a second before saying, "I'd understand if you'd go back now. My men and I can handle it from here. This ain't exactly your fight."

"Cartwrights help Paiute many time. We stay," Wavoka declared.

Roy nodded before looking back through the woods. Even though they had more men, the situation was no less dangerous. With one of the men taken, they had to act quickly, but Roy was unsure of just what to do. It was still very much a hostage situation, and Roy was reluctant to take any course of action that might injure his friends. Turning back to his men, he noticed Travis and gave the order, "Take him back with the horses and make sure he stays there."

Much to his relief, the knife finally came away from Travis's back, but several men appeared behind him now. His heart in his throat, Travis struggled against the arms that started to pull him away as he realized what they were planning to do and knowing he would have no part in it. "Wait, no! I can help you." A gun was shoved into his throat this time, a warning for him to hold his tongue.

"Sure you can. You've already done enough." Roy turned his back on him.

Travis paled even more. After all the inner turmoil he had to conquer to finally come to the decision to help, being unable to do so now was not an option. It meant everything to him now, his freedom, a pardon... wasn't that what Mr. Cartwright had promised? "No, it's true." He somehow found his hands tied behind his back now, but he fought harder to make himself be heard. "I want to help you... help them. I'm not with McWhorter anymore. I don't wanna have anythin' to do with him."

Roy stopped and turned again, his eyes slits of distrust. "And just why would I believe you? You're only talkin' like that because you're caught now, or more'n likely you're figurin' on gettin' back in there and warnin' your buddies that we're out here."

"No... well, I mean... Mr. Cartwright said he'd help me if I helped him." Travis was so confused, he wasn't sure if his own words were helping or condemning him further.

"You speak to Ben Cartwright? He tell you this?" the Indian leader at Roy's elbow spoke.

"Yes," he nodded emphatically. "I tell yuh, I was gonna help 'em."

"Why?" Roy asked.

Travis's breath caught. Why was he doing it? "I don't want this life no more. The Boss, he's... he's gone mad. What he's done to the Cartwrights is wrong; he'll hang for it. Every single one of 'em in there'll hang for it, but not me." _Why should they trust me? Give them proof!_ "Listen, if you go bargin' in there, the first thing McWhorter's gonna do is kill your friends. You need me!" He pleaded, slightly sagging into the arms holding him. This was his last chance. Even as he thought of it, his hopes of ever making things right again waned. He turned pleading, frightened eyes to Roy and the Indian leader who stood next to him... his last chance to make things right were in their hands.

He couldn't tell what the Indian was thinking, but the Sheriff's thoughts were all too clearly reflected in the fire that burned in his eyes.

"After all these months of their sufferin' at your hand, you expect me tuh just let you go back in there, pretty as you please, when the Cartwrights' lives are at stake? What kinda fool do you take me fer?" The problem was, Roy wasn't sure what he was going to do. The situation was closing in on them, and he had to do something soon; but just the thought of taking a wild chance like this was out of the question. Still burdened with the sense of his own mistakes that now had placed the whole family in danger, he wasn't about to gamble with their lives on the word of this outlaw.

Just then, Wavoka stepped forward. Travis tried stepping back away from the sheer intimidation the Indian evoked, but he was firmly held in place. He came within a foot of the young man's face, peering deeply into his eyes with his own dark penetrating ones, as if he could see through to his very soul. They stayed that way for a matter of moments, Travis's brow beading profusely with sweat from the close scrutiny, when Wavoka calmly broke the gaze and turning back to Roy, spoke in a hushed voice, "I believe him."

* * *

"Wade," Hank kicked at the snoring man in his bedroll, receiving no answer but another snore. "Wade! Get up. You got guard duty in the loft." The grizzled and scarred man, with a glare at Hank and a quick flick of the covers, yawned once as he stumbled to his feet before grabbing his rifle and heading toward the ladder leading to the floor above. He was just ascending as Hank trudged over to another sleeping bundle. "Jess, check on 'em."

Jesse, reveling in the few hours of uninterrupted bliss he'd been able to capture, grumbled as he asked, "Why do I hafta? Clint should do it, he's the one that belted 'em that hard in the first place."

"Because I told you to. Now go do it," Hank repeated before going over to the water bucket on the rickety table in the middle of the room for a drink.

A chuckle sounded from a deeper corner of the room. "I mighta not had to hit 'em that hard, but it sure felt good doin' it. Besides, didn't get me in no trouble with the Boss. Pr'olly enjoyed it just as much as I did. Haven't landed into somebody like that in a long time." Another low chuckle rumbled from Clint's throat as his pulled his worn leather hat lower over his eyes and hunkered down into a more comfortable position under his blanket. Jesse grumbled at him as he glanced at the door where the boss was no doubt making up his next plan of action. Now that they had all the Cartwrights it was just a matter of time before all the money, the land, everything he'd signed on for would be his, and he could taste the sweet pleasure of success at hand. It was just a matter of time he thought as he passed by the doorway on his way to the tack room, before the boss would come through again and for good this time.

After taking a long refreshing draught from the ladle, Hank splashed the remaining water on his face before glancing around the room. The wood pile was still low. He'd sent Travis out a while ago to replenish it. It couldn't have taken him this long. He listened as the slight wind outside awakened the old boards and rafters, causing them to creak and groan in protest. He should've been back by now, Hank thought. He was halfway risen from his chair to check on it himself when the stable door reopened revealing Travis, his arms full of wood.

Hank sank back into his chair as Travis turned and closed the door behind him. He stayed there a moment with his back to the room, repositioning some of the pieces of wood before turning and sidling past him. "Nippy out there."

Trying to still his shaking hands, Travis tightened his grip around the wood he was carrying as if that act alone would give him the needed courage. Travis couldn't help but steal several glances at Hank as he passed him on his way to the wood box, but the older man did not notice him as he took out his whittling knife and proceeded to strip down a piece of wood he'd picked up from the stick-strewn floor.

As Travis reached the wood box at the back of the room, he silently let out the breath he just then realized he'd been holding. Hurriedly wiping the sweat from his brow, he started filling the box, occasionally stealing glances at the two storerooms housing their respective captives. How could he have gotten into this position? Just the thought of all he still had to do was making the cold barn as hot as an oven, one that was slowly draining the life out of him. He rehearsed the quickly made-up plan in his head again and again, still aware of the responsibility and the possibly misplaced trust laid on him by those anxiously waiting outside.

_The Sheriff's eyes widened at the Indian's words. "What in Sam Hill are you talkin' about? We can't do that!"_

_"This one is young and afraid," Wavoka nodded toward Travis. "But he speaks truth. You must believe him."_

_Roy shifted his eyes to the prisoner for a moment. With an unbelieving scoff, he hung his head and walked a few paces away, his hand reaching up to stroke his chin and smooth his mustache in an anxious manner. If he was wrong, the Cartwrights would die. The question was, would his friends have a better chance of surviving if he didn't trust him. His forehead crinkled and a dry smile creased his face as he thought of Ben Cartwright and an old saying he had about the red man and his ways. "Listen to their judgment, what little they give of it... sometimes they understand us better than we do ourselves." Roy could hear his old friend say it to him even now over a chess board during one of the many discussions two old coots like them would often share._

_All of the men were silent behind him. One of the many creatures of the forest called out for its mate while Roy still gazed ahead, unseeing. "Sheriff?" a member of the posse finally spoke up._

_Saying a small prayer that he wasn't making a mistake that would cause him to lose that old friend, he turned and with a resolve he didn't really feel, walked past Wavoka and up to Travis. His gray eyes scanned him a moment before he grunted to his men, "Untie him and go gather some wood." As his hands were released, Travis rubbed absently at his wrists, never taking his eyes off the Sheriff as he spoke again slowly, his voice threateningly low, his eyes piercing daggers. "Now you listen to me, and you listen good. If you double-cross us or the Cartwrights get hurt in any way, I don't care where you try to hide, I'll personally hunt you down and see you hang for it." He stopped a moment as if to let his words sink in. "Now... here's what we're gonna do."_

The words of the Sheriff sent another chill down his spine, bringing back to mind the consequences from all sides if he should fail.

The sound of one of the storeroom doors opening almost caused him to jump. While he quickly finished filling the wood box as he was told, he noticed Jesse coming out of the room. At the same time, the door of the tack room in the front of the barn opened slowly to reveal McWhorter, his spine straight, ears tuned to Jesse's report.

"Well?" Hank questioned without turning around from his reclining position at the table.

"They're fine. Gave 'em some water, but they're still half out of it." Jesse's answer sent a chill tingling down Travis's spine, and he saw McWhorter's eyes turn dark as he threw an annoyed glare in Clint's direction. The big man shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and without a word needing to be said, McWhorter disappeared into his room once again.

Travis turned back to the box, his fingers gripping it hard enough to turn the knuckles white. What must they have gone through to keep them out this long? His breath catching, he suddenly wondered if it would affect their plans to get them all out of there. He knew that his very life depended on whether he was able to keep up his end of the deal. If only he could run, run away and not have to think about any of them anymore, but he couldn't. He was dead if he ran; he was dead if he stayed true to McWhorter. The decision about what to do was no longer his, and even if it was, with a sudden pang of conscience that quite shocked even him, he wasn't sure if he _could_ leave them. The look of pure agony on old man Cartwright's face haunted his every thought, made him wonder how a family could become that close, made him, in fact, long for the family he'd never known and wonder what twist of fate led him to the kind of life he had in the first place.

Trying to push the self-pity and fear from his mind, he glanced around the interior of the barn and saw all the men settling once more. He soon had to put the plan into action. Steeling his courage, he took something out of the box that had been inconspicuously hidden amongst the logs, before closing the lid and walking over to the left storeroom. They had no reason to stop him. Any of them would look in on their prisoners either by order or of their own volition, but that fact didn't relieve the sense that all of the eyes in the room were boring into the back of his skull. Finally reaching it, he opened the door and entered...

"Mr. Cartwright... Mr. Cartwright?" An adamant voice came through to Ben, and he slowly raised his head from where it had been resting on his knees. His tears had long since dried and faint streaks on his face were now the only testament to them. His vision was somewhat blurry from having his eyes clamped shut in misery for so long, and it took him a moment to recognize the young man to whom he had spoken… when?... could it have just been the night before, or perhaps that very morning?... what was his name?... Travis.

"Mr. Cartwright, I need you to listen to me."

"My sons... they alright?"

The lad's brow furrowed. "Yes, and we're gonna get you all outta here. The Sheriff has his men outside, but I need you to listen to me."

"Roy? He's here?" Ben asked in confusion, constant worry for his family making his mind slow to grasp anything else.

"Yes, now I don't have much time. I need you to do exactly like I say." Ben listened in shocked but rapt attention as the young man quickly conveyed the plan Roy had divulged to him. Travis constantly glanced at the door, making sure to keep his voice low enough to have no fear of listening walls. When he was done, he looked back at Ben. "Remember, wait for my signal."

Before Ben could even think to say anything else, he uttered, "Th...thank you."

The grateful utterance took Travis by surprise. "Don't thank me." He grunted back at him before putting his hand into his pocket. "Here." He leaned over and shoved something cold and hard into Ben's hands. "Use that to cut yourself loose when the time comes. Can't risk doin' it now."

Ben nodded. "Just one thing, Travis... why are you doing this?"

Before he could answer, the door suddenly swung open. Travis, startled into action, suddenly brought his right hand up and back slapped Ben across the face. "Don't you ever talk like that to me!" he yelled as he stood up, sweat beading on his face. Even though the slap wasn't very hard, Ben still snapped his head to the left as if the impact was much greater.

Hank stood leaning in the doorway, still whittling away on the piece of wood. "He giving you trouble, Trav?"

"Naw. Just annoyin' me." Hank grunted with amusement before he turned from the doorway, leaving it open. Travis's shoulders visibly slumped a bit before he took one last look at Ben and then followed Hank into the other room, securely locking the door behind him.

Ben felt the smooth handle of the hunting knife in his hands and slowly leaned his head back against the barn wall, his heart pounding as he rehearsed the plan over and over again in his mind. There was nothing left to do now but wait...


	23. Chapter 23

BJ2 - We are getting closer; only a couple more chapters now. And the reunion is coming soon. :)

Areader - Cliff? Me?! Of course not! ;) Heehee, yeah I don't know how I would even end a chapter if it wasn't a cliffhanger actually. Thanks so much for the review!

cma - The boys' condition is brought to light a bit in this chapter. ;) And thank you for thinking me prolific, but the truth is this is an older story I wrote some time ago, but I'm redoing some of it as I go along, so that's why the pace has been so breakneck.

BettHT - The end game is definitely in sight at this point and the boys come back in this chapter. As to what Travis's part will be in it all, wait and see. ;)

* * *

~CHAPTER 23~

Ben's palms were tingling as he shifted his position nervously, waiting for the signal to come. Every minute felt like an eternity. Since he hadn't known the time for days, it was hard to judge the passage of it. After Travis had gone, a few men had come in every so often to check on him, and each time he had been grateful that he hadn't given in to his instinctual yearning to release himself from his bonds too early. The whole plan could have been ruined if they'd found him with the ropes cut, and as it was, he'd slid the knife up his sleeve to ensure that it wasn't found. So it went on, for just how long he couldn't tell, constantly waiting and listening...

* * *

It felt like hours since he'd left Cartwright. Every time he saw someone go into the left storeroom, he couldn't help but hold his breathe and hope that Cartwright had done what he'd asked of him and was staying put until the right time. He had second-guessed giving him the knife ever since he'd left it with him, worried that a man in his dire position would choose not to wait, but try and reach his sons by himself. He tried keeping busy in the barn, but stopped when odd looks were thrown his way. Lying back down in his cot, he tilted his hat over his eyes, feigning sleep, while running back over what he had to do again and again in his mind. Any number of things could go wrong. What if the Cartwrights made noise? What if someone went to check on them before they were away? The Sheriff's lingering words re-echoed in his head... _If the Cartwrights get hurt in any way, I'll hunt you down and see you hang... hunt you down... see you hang_... A shudder rippled through him.

"Travis," Hank called across the room. "Loft lookout." Travis's heart skipped a beat, but he remained motionless until the call came again. "Travis! Lookout!" Hank called louder as he came over and kicked at his foot, thinking the young man was asleep. Travis slowly brought his hat back and blinked blearily a few times before picking himself up off the floor and heading for the loft ladder. After waiting for the man who had been up there to come down, he started up. This was it...

* * *

Ben's head shot up as he heard one of the men shout out the order to Travis. He listened, waiting for it to be repeated, and when it was his heart picked up its pace even more. _"Give me five minutes to get to the loft before you free yourself_ ..." Ben heard the men changing positions as he waited, slowly counting away the seconds into minutes until they hit five. While keeping a constant watch on the door, he carefully slid the knife from his sleeve. Not able to see the long sharp blade, he came close to cutting himself a few times before finally situating the edge against the ropes and starting the tedious task of cutting through the ties. Long before he was done, sweat stood out on his forehead as his muscles ached from the constant pressure and unusual position. He worked as quickly as he could, the fear of being discovered constantly with him. Ben's impatience to get to his boys caused his hand to slip once, sending a quick cut into his thumb, but the pain barely even registered, and once he'd set the knife right again, pressed on.

Although it took him only a quarter of an hour to saw through the ropes, it seemed like several hours to Ben. With one last mighty heave the rope finally frayed and broke, causing Ben to sigh with relief. His hands felt like rubber, and he rubbed them briskly trying to revive them as quickly as possible before picking up the knife again and setting it to work on the ropes at his feet. They came free in a few minutes and using the beam he'd leaned against for so long, he pulled himself upward, groaning at the pain in his abused limbs. The burning sensation of moving blood pulsed up and down his legs making them wobbly and barely able to hold him. After a moment, however, he forced them rigid; he had to get moving.

Turning behind him, he went to the corner that Travis had indicated and moved aside old bales of hay to reveal a ladder leading up into the loft. Sliding the knife into his boot and kneading his thighs with his fists one more time, he grasped the bottom rung and started to climb. Some of the steps were old and splintering, making every step he took a slow and cautious one. When he was about halfway up, his foot slipped as one of the boards started to give way under him. All movement stopped as his ears strained for any sign that he'd been detected. Hearing nothing, he slowly finished his climb to the top. Reaching it, he began pulling himself up the rest of the way when a hand caught him just below his wrist to assist him. Looking up, Travis's relieved eyes met his as he was pulled into the loft.

"So far, so good," he whispered. "The storeroom is on the other side," he said, pointing across to the opposite side of the loft. "Your sons are there. Try'n be as quick as you can. I'll stay up here and try'n warn you if I see anybody comin' your way. Once you get back up here, I'll letcha out the loft door. Your Sheriff friend'll be waitin' for you just inside the tree line. If anything goes wrong, he'll be in here right quick."

Ben nodded his understanding. "What about you?" he asked after he was done.

"What _about _me?"

"You can't stay here."

Travis gave a short snort. "Believe me, Mr. Cartwright, I haven't the slightest notion of stickin' around here. I'll be comin' down right behind you after I get you and your boys out."

Ben smiled weakly and nodded, clasping the young man's shoulder quickly. "Where are my sons?"

Travis stood up slowly and put a finger to his mouth, side-stepping both the hay chute and the ladder to the main room. His steps were as loud as he could make them without attracting unnecessary attention to cover any sound made by Ben's. Once on the other side, Travis directed him behind some barrels and to the way down into the second storeroom. He nodded towards Ben who carried on without delay, his longing to finally see his boys after all this time almost making him weak at the knees.

* * *

He knew the time for action had to come soon, yet no matter how hard he pulled and strained at his bonds, they held fast. The only comforting thought he had to dwell on was that all of them appeared to be alright aside from the mutual nagging headache that usually accompanies a blow to the head. He'd found Hoss and Joe finally awake when he'd regained consciousness too, and even though the gags quelled any words between them, the relief at seeing the other two brothers alive and near was evident in each of their eyes. Hoss and Joe had tested their ties as well and found them to be as fast as Adam's. The fact that all three were so close but still not able to reach out or talk to one another was maddening to say the least.

As much as he tried to push it from his mind and keep his thoughts on a means of escape, Adam still longed to ask his brothers if they had heard or seen their father when they were dragged into the barn. That cry echoing in his mind was a haunting reminder that he still wasn't even sure where his father was. It could've been someone else calling. And now the events of that time all seemed a distant and foggy nightmare to him, one which he was loathe to remember but one he dared not forget, as if by chance the next time he recalled it he would remember something he hadn't the many times before. Dwelling on thoughts was pretty much all he could do, though. He had given each of his brothers a good look to try and detect any other injuries, but they seemed to be faring just as well, or just as poorly, as he was.

Only one man had entered the room since they'd been left there. As the footsteps approached, all three gazed at the door, feeling helpless and unsure of what to do. Glancing back at his brothers, Adam simply laid his aching head back on the floor, indicating they should pretend to still be unconscious; the other two followed suit. Perhaps they would be left alone if thought ill enough. It worked. The man stood over each one of them, untied the gags and tried to rouse them by trickling water into their mouths. Although their thirst was great, they willed themselves not to swallow, trying to maintain the pretense. After refastening the gags and checking the ropes once more, the man scoffed before scuffling back out the door, leaving them alone again.

That had been a matter of hours ago, and no one had seen fit to check on them again. As he squirmed to take pressure off of already aching areas, Adam tested the ropes yet again and found them as unyielding as always. Testing the gag suddenly, not thinking to do so before, he realized the man who'd given them the drink must've done a poor job of retying it because it was somewhat loose. Without even thinking, he worked his already aching jaw for several minutes until he finally managed to push the dreaded piece of material past his teeth and down below his chin. Finally, he was able to take in great gulps of clean air that were no longer forced through the dirty cloth. Even though it did little to help them get free, it was a small victory when none other seemed to be in sight.

Just as Adam was about to whisper something to his brothers, a soft sound from inside the room made them all freeze. They couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from, but suddenly toward the back of the storeroom a dusty boot appeared at the top of a ladder they hadn't noticed before. Adam kicked himself for being so foolish as to take the gag off, fearful of what they would do when they found it that way. Quickly, the three of them rested their heads back down on the floor as the man finished his descent which they noticed, for some reason, was very slow and quiet. Adam could hear the man's gentle footsteps on the floor as he approached, but he dared not open his eyes. To his surprise, he felt a hand graze his cheek before it moved behind his back and started untying his bonds. This was it... they were waiting no longer but something that now worked in his favor was the element of surprise. Just a few moments more... he could feel the rope start to slacken... felt the blood rush back into his hands. He had no more time to wait. Flinging himself upward, his head screaming at the pressure, he grabbed the man's jacket and wrapped his other hand into the tightest fist he could muster, ready to send it into his chin. As he took his first glance at the man's face, all movement froze as his breath caught in his throat. There in front of him was the face he thought he might never see again. His hand was touching a body he thought he'd never feel warmth from again. Slowly, with mouth agape and weary eyes wide, he took in each and every feature. He was definitely thinner, more gray than he remembered, more worry lines around the hollow eyes set deep in a far too pale face, but it was him. "Pa..."


	24. Chapter 24

I'm so sorry I haven't updated recently. It's been getting a bit busier here. Below are the answers to the reviews for this chapter and 23. Only 2 more chapters to go though! :) Enjoy!

* * *

~CHAPTER 24~

Adam's whisper came out on a rush of breath, as if trying at once to reconcile his disbelief with what his eyes told him had to be true. How many times had he hoped against hope that that moment would come? The tormenting voice of doubt in the back of his mind was forever quenched as he drank in the sight of his father there in front of him. "Pa!" he uttered again, as he eased his grip on Ben's jacket and released the fist.

"My son..." Ben whispered as he grasped Adam's shoulders and pulled him close, noticing the slight tremble that ran through his eldest as Adam slowly brought his own arms around his father's waist. Even though they were still far from danger, for that moment Ben reveled the fact that his boys were with him and that he could actually feast his eyes upon them and hold them close, a pleasure no amount of daydreaming could reproduce. "My sons, I thought I'd never see you again," he whispered. After a moment, Adam reluctantly pulled back and motioned his father toward his brothers. Leaving Adam to untie the rope at his feet, Ben went quickly to Hoss and Joe and checked them for injuries as he had his eldest.

He removed each of their gags and untied their bonds. No words were exchanged and none were needed. With tears in his eyes, Ben quickly took Joe, then Hoss in his arms. Sheer joy and relief shone in their eyes as both embraced their father with a fierceness that told Ben they never wanted to let go. Hoss's hearty hug would've been enough to force the air out of any normal man, but Ben didn't mind; to him, it was the greatest feeling in the world.

As Adam stood apart from the three, taking in the picture of them together, an unexpected sob at the sight was making it hard for him to swallow. All of this time of waiting and planning had finally paid off. His father _had_ been the one to call out. He hadn't just imagined it; it was him! Everything else seemed to pale in comparison with finding their father alive.

After several moments had passed, Joe finally pulled himself away from his father's embrace, keeping a constant hand on his arm. "Pa... Pa I... I can't believe it's you. How'd you..."

"Shh, Joseph. We don't have time to talk now," he quieted suddenly as if just realizing where they were, and that they needed to depart in haste. Patting his son's arm, he quickly stepped over to the door and put his ear to its wooden surface, listening. The three brothers looked on in silence, their breaths held as the gravity of their situation came back to them with full force. Satisfied that no one had been aroused on the other side, Ben came back over. "We've got to get out of here. Travis is waiting."

"Who's Travis?" Hoss asked softly.

"I don't have time to explain right now. Just follow me. We've got to get to the loft. He's waiting there for us," he whispered heading back to the ladder from which he'd entered the storeroom. He stepped to the side to allow one of his sons to start up, but all three held their places, a sudden and familiar fear leaping into their eyes.

"You first, Pa," Hoss said taking his father's elbow and motioning him forward, making sure he was the first to get out. Ben saw the same worry he'd seen on many occasions from all of his sons and knew that they intended to secure his safety before their own. After only a slight hesitation he nodded and started up the ladder, making his steps as slow and deliberate as before.

Travis was there again at the top ready to help him up, relief replacing the growing anxiety that'd been building in him ever since Ben had gone. Once Ben was safely beside him, they both reached down to help Joe up. He glanced warily at Travis as his arm was grasped by him, but, noting that his father seemed to harbor no apprehension toward the man, decided he must be alright and let himself be pulled the rest of the way up. The next to come was Hoss. It took him a bit longer than Joe to ascend, for his size required that he be even more cautious so as not to make a sound. As Ben helped him out the rest of the way, Travis took a quick glance into the main room and satisfied himself that everyone was maintaining his position. One more to get up, and they'd be that much closer to escaping that hellish place once and for all.

As he turned back, the last of the Cartwrights was being helped out by his family. The three of them appeared haggard, and the youngest held his head as if he'd just woken up from a terrible hangover. Motioning them to stay where they were, Travis walked over to the open loft door where the cool breeze wafted in, cooling his sweaty face and somewhat calming his racing heart. So far, so good. One more thing to do... one more and this whole nightmare would be behind them. Grabbing the length of corded rope he'd placed by the side of the door earlier, he made a lasso at one end and with a flick of the wrist tossed it over the wooden arm that still hung out over the opening, the metal pulley that used to occupy it long gone. He tightened the rope, making it secure before motioning for one of them to come up quietly.

Ben motioned for Joe to go ahead. He was about to argue, but a firm hand on his arm and a nod toward the open door put an end to any debate. Edging forward in a crouch, he made his way over to Travis. Taking one last look behind him, he eased himself out onto the rope and let himself down slowly, Travis making sure he didn't touch the side of the barn. Once he was down, he glanced back up and saw Travis motioning him toward the woods. Although he was reluctant to go, he forced himself into the shadow of the trees.

Upon entering the forest, he looked around and saw Roy, along with Indians and men from town, materialize from the shadows and come toward him. "Joe, son!" Roy breathed in relief, hurrying forward and grasping the younger man's arms. "You made it. Thank God it worked. Where's the rest?"

"Roy! How'd you find us?"

"Them," Roy replied nodding to the redskins. Joe looked around and nodded in understanding, a smile slowing breaking across his face. "You boys beat all, you know that?" There was a break to Roy's voice, and he squeezed slightly on Joe's arms before asking again. "Where's your family and that young'un?"

"They're still up there. There's Hoss now," he said turning and pointing to where his brother was shimmying down the rope...

Hoss was down and rushing for the cover of the woods as Travis motioned for the next person to come over. "Alright, Adam," Ben said.

"No, Pa. You need to go now," Adam's hazel eyes implored his father to go, hating the idea of him being left there if even for a minute more than himself.

"Adam, I'll be right behind you, don't worry. Now you go," he said forcefully. After one last beseeching look at Ben, Adam reluctantly started heading for the door, his riding boots soundless on the boards except for the occasional creak which, for all anyone knew, could only have been caused by Travis.

* * *

Wade Downey was an unassuming but observant kind. Where Clint was tall and provocative in his speech and Jess quick and shifty, Wade was intelligent, much more so than anyone probably gave the quiet man credit for. He was also among the older men of the group, but in his line of business, age implied nothing but experience. However, just because he'd seen more winters and springs than some men had didn't mean his love of thrill and excitement was any less. Even though the previous night had been a long one, he was already itching for something to happen, even _eager_ for something to happen. He sighed as all remained quiet in the barn except for the occasional creak of a loose board from Travis above and the scrape of Hank's knife across his piece of wood. Settling back into his corner, he observed a brown spider, fat from who knew how many years of horseflies that filled the old building, sitting unmoving in the middle of its web, intricate and delicately spun from a rusty nail sticking out of the wall to an old pail and a broken timber from one of the empty stalls. Wade waited for an unassuming prey to come within the spider's clutches. The quick and sudden pounce from the old wizened arachnid did come once she felt the tiniest jerk in her lair, but it hadn't come from any insect.

Wade focused to see just what had disrupted the web to find a flaky trail of dust from the hay that had once been stored there coming through the rafters up above. It proceeded to fall through various holes and gaps in the ceiling until Travis had obviously stopped. He growled his annoyance just as the spider must have when she realized her "catch" had been nothing she would want to devour. They had just settled themselves again when a second stream of dust filtered down through the cracks. He looked up, wondering why on earth a man who was on guard duty had to do so much pacing when an odd and unusual fact hit him. The creaks and groans of the wood all sounded the same in a barn as old as this; when one sounded the adjoining boards felt they had to also. Both times the trail of dust had led away from him, but there had been no return trip. His mind pondered how that was possible for one man... that is, if only one man was up there.

Needing to satisfy his curiosity on the matter, he eased himself up and immediately noticed that all the rest of the men were present except Travis. His eyes narrowing, he started for the storeroom to check on their prisoners. Opening the door, his eyes widened in shock when he beheld an empty corner where there should've lain three unconscious men. A quick glance around the room revealed no one. He left that door ajar and immediately started across the barn to the room opposite. Kicking in the door with his foot, he found that room to be just as vacant as the last. With the ruckus of the door being kicked in, the other men had jumped to their feet and now beheld the two rooms in astonishment. Hank stumbled to the Boss's room and flung the door open, "They're gone!"

* * *

Tawna P. Shawn, thanks for the review! The last chapter will settle everything. :)

They kept their reunion to a minimum, cma, but that still doesn't mean they won't be discovered. ;)

Thanks, BettHT! I'm glad you liked the reunion. It sure was a long time in coming!

Now, AureaD, you should know by now that nothing comes easy in this story. ;) There will be a bit more angst before matters resolve themselves.

BJ2 - I knooooooow! ARGH!

Areader- I know, I know I couldn't help myself! But this is the last one, I can assure you! Course there's only one more chapter, but still! I could've put a cliffhanger going into the epilogue, but I didn't. ;) I'm glad you liked the chapter. It's fun writing tension, and Wade's little POV was one of my favorite parts to write.


	25. Chapter 25

Alrighty here it is. The final conclusion. There is an epilogue after this though.

* * *

~CHAPTER 25~

The three occupants of the loft froze in terror when they heard the crash of a door flying from its hinges below. Travis's head jerked around, his blood running cold as he heard McWhorter's voice raised in anger. "What happened? Where are they!" Halfway to the loft door Adam started forward again, motioning Ben to follow as more voices were heard from below.

"That soft-bellied punk, Travis," a darker voice responded to the Boss's question as quick footsteps coming up the storeroom ladder to the loft were heard. Having just reached the rope, Adam turned around and saw his father, now almost out of view in the shadow-filled recesses. He was about to turn and rush back to him when Travis's hand suddenly pressed into his back, pushing him out the loft opening. He frantically reached out and grasped the rope, stopping his plummet toward the unforgiving ground with a bone-jarring jerk. His grip wasn't a good one however, and as his body swung back to slam up against the barn wall, his fingers slipped from the strain and he fell heavily to the ground. He looked back up toward the opening and realized with a sinking heart that his father was not right behind him.

Suddenly hands were on him as he heard Joe's voice in his ear. "Adam, where's Pa!" he blurted as he and Hoss helped him up. Before Adam could answer, a shot was heard from above. All three turned their heads toward the opening as Roy and the others rushed to their side.

"Hurry, inside!" Roy drew his gun and motioned them all toward the front of the barn as more shots followed the first and loud voices were raised, making their hearts sink**.** Guns were hastily tossed to the three brothers as they ran for the door. Crashing through it, Roy yelled to the men who were in great disarray inside, "All right, hold it!" The occupants turned in stunned disbelief at the unexpected intruders. Showing an outward calmness he honestly didn't feel, Roy motioned for the man at the top of the ladder, "Get down from there!" Time seemed to slide to a halt as both sides faced each other in a perplexing stalemate. The man on the top of the ladder with his gun drawn, ever so slowly made his way down the ladder step by step. The rest of the gang, afraid of their sure demise if they backed down, and the posse, unsure of what to do, remained motionless. Both sides had enough numbers; if there was shooting, casualties would quickly pile up on both sides, and everyone knew it.

The tension in the room was so thick one could almost see it, hazy, grotesque, clouding people's better judgment. One lone figure in the back, however, was not being led by fear, but by anger. His plans had been foiled... the one man responsible must still be upstairs; he didn't see him among the group in front of him. Since all other options were cut off to him now, McWhorter would have to make his escape by means of the loft. Seeing the open door to the sons' room directly to his left and all eyes turned to the man just now reaching the bottom of the ladder, McWhorter's heartlessness demanded he think of no one but himself; he_ had _to get to Ben Cartwright. Putting his plan into action, he shoved Clint, who was standing in front of him, forward, and dodged into the adjoining gunshots from weapons held by fingers tight with nerves were heard from every corner. Clint lay dead a second later, but the rest ran for cover wherever they could and commenced shooting. The opposition was forced outside and to their own cover, several of the less fortunate already slumped in the threshold.

Roy and the Cartwrights took their places to the left of the main door, miraculously unharmed. As the firing continued, Hoss turned to the Sheriff. "Roy, Pa's in there. We gotta git to 'im!"

"You can't go through that, son; you'll be cut off before yuh get two feet!"

The delay caused Adam to wipe a hand across his mouth in frustration as Joe fired, the acrid smell of gun smoke already heavy in the air. Leaving his brothers and the posse, Adam ran to the other side of the barn and gazed back up at the opening. He couldn't tell what was going on up there. The posse had everyone else pinned down below; his father and Travis should've been out by now.

* * *

Travis peered around the side of a post behind which he'd taken cover. His hand was shaking**,** and his heart beat wildly from the close encounter that had fortunately been interrupted by the Sheriff. He hadn't expected to do any shooting, and it had unnerved him more than he thought possible. Even though things happened so quickly, he knew that Wade must've seen him push Adam Cartwright out the loft door. As he opened the gun's chamber, he noticed with horror he had but one bullet left. His end of the deal wasn't to deliver his previous cohorts to them; it was merely to get the Cartwrights to safety, and he had one more to get there. As he put his gun back in its holster, Ben Cartwright's ragged face appeared from the rear of the barn, the sound of the resumed gunfire loud downstairs. He hurried over to where Travis stood by the open door. "That shooting... my sons..."

"I'm sure they're safe, Mr. Cartwright. They were with the Sheriff the last time I saw them, and I'm sure he won't let anything happen to them." With a tired but victorious smile, he turned Ben toward the rope, "Last one... let's get you out of..."

A shot in close proximity rang in Ben's ears. Travis gasped in pain and stumbled into Ben who caught him instinctively. "Travis! Travis?" He called urgently to the young lad, whose eyes had suddenly rolled up into his head and whose body became a dead weight as Ben carefully laid him down on the floor. Blood oozed from an ugly wound in his side, but before he could tell just how badly the lad was injured, a menacing laugh sounded behind him. Turning slowly, he saw his nemesis standing a few yards away with a raised gun and satisfied smile on his face.

"Fool kid... he should've known better than to try and double-cross Jason McWhorter."

"You didn't have to shoot him. You were after me! He's just a boy!"

"He was man enough to defy my orders, wasn't he?" he spat at Ben, not caring whether or not he had just killed the motionless figure on the floor. Turning his full attention back to Ben, he smoothly motioned with his gun. "On your feet, Cartwright." Ben turned back to Travis whose face was starting to pale, not sure if the lad was even still breathing. "I said up!" McWhorter stepped closer. Ben heaved a great sigh and slowly stood, his right hand brushing past his boot and retrieving the knife that he had returned there after freeing his sons. He slid it imperceptibly into his sleeve as he finished standing and turned to McWhorter.

McWhorter slowly started to circle Ben. Shots and cries of pain continued to sound from below as he hissed, "You've ruined my plans for the last time, Cartwright. I'm going to enjoy this."

"And then what, McWhorter? You've lived so long with this needless hatred driving you, what will you do when it's gone?"

"Needless!" McWhorter stopped circling, his back to the open window where the light made his bulk look ten times bigger and his terrible face even more wild. "Oh, but it isn't needless. You took everything from me! My revenge will finally be over. I... I will feel complete."

"Oh, no... you'll feel empty. Empty and worthless just like the scum of the earth you are and always have been."

Instead of anger, a sadistic smile slowly flashed across McWhorter's face making his twisted scar jump grotesquely. "Oh, I don't think so... there's still your sons... Ah yes, what makes you think if after I get through killing you I won't come back for them. It'd be so easy... I could pick them off one by one. Alone in some field, a single bullet to the head... " The sound of the firing downstairs and McWhorter's heinous plans for his family seemed to meld as Ben felt his muscles become rigid and his jaw grind as he glared at the serpent in front of him.

"Enough of this!" McWhorter suddenly shouted. He raised his gun for the killing shot for which he'd waited so long. "Don't worry, Cartwright... at least you won't be there to see it... a shame." His finger started pulling the trigger... a shot was heard... but Ben felt no pain. Instead, McWhorter's left side jerked as a bullet entered his arm. He was thrown off balance suddenly, his gun hand wavering, giving Ben enough time to retrieve the knife from his sleeve and throw it before McWhorter could fire. The man's head shot back and his gun dropped from nerveless fingers as the knife imbedded itself in his upper chest. He reeled slightly, falling to the ground. Ben ran over and kicked the gun far out of his reach, but it wasn't needed. The hate-filled eyes of a moment before were now lifeless and empty, the knife having struck him in the heart. He suddenly recalled the bullet that had kept McWhorter from killing him and looked over to see Travis collapse once again to the floor, his gun sliding from his hand. Ben ran over to him and noticed with horror the back of the lad's shirt almost completely stained crimson.

"It's alright now, boy. We're gonna get you help."

Travis gazed toward the ceiling, his breathing quick and shallow as Ben rolled him onto his side slightly and pressed his neckerchief against the wound. He slowly turned his head on the hay-strewn floor and looked over at the body lying a few feet away. "I... is he d-dead?"

"Yes."

"Did I..."

"No, you didn't. It was my knife that killed him." Travis ran his tongue over his dry lips.

"I... I never k-killed anyone before..." His breathe came in gasps, his words choppy and short. Ben peeled back the cloth and grimaced to see the steady flow of blood.

"Travis I... don't really know what to say. You saved my family... my life... words don't seem to say how much I owe you and how grateful... very grateful I am."

Travis angled his head back slowly. Tears shown in the lad's eyes, but he didn't speak.

"Pa!" Ben looked behind to see Joe running toward him. In all the confusion he hadn't even realized that the firing below had ceased. It was over.

* * *

To Ben the rest was a blur, although he vaguely remembered making sure Travis would be taken to a doctor. "We're getting help for him, Pa," Joe reassured him. "Let's get you out of here." The room was suddenly full of people, some helping Travis, some coming to him, two of which were his other sons making sure that he was alright. He'd been led past the carnage in the lower room of that stable, only slightly glimpsing the lifeless figures being gathered by the posse. It wasn't until he was outside and breathing the free air that Ben's mind seemed to return to him. He beheld his good friend the Sheriff and another, more surprising one, Wavoka of the Paiutes.

"Ben, I just can't believe my eyes. Here you are raised from the dead, and prit'near lookin' like it too," Roy joked, shaking Ben's hand with vigor, his mustache twitching in a giant smile.

Ben chuckled, "I tell you, Roy, I don't care how I look as long as I _am_ back!"

"Ain't that the truth," Hoss put in heartily.

Some distance away and unnoticed until Adam happened to turn and see them, Wavoka and his braves were starting to mount. Running over to them, he called out, "Wavoka, why do you leave now? I'd like to thank you, and I'm sure my father would like to... "

"Wavoka need nothing." He gazed back at Ben Cartwright, a great man and a leader of men. Wavoka would always respect him for that. "White friend of the Paiute need help, Paiute help. Ask for nothing."

Adam nodded in understanding of the Indian's proud ways. "Goodbye, my friend."

Wavoka nodded before gracefully swinging onto his mount's saddleless back and disappearing toward the hills with his braves. Adam gazed after them. Though their help had gone unrecognized, without it the whole course of events would've had an unthinkable end. He'd be eternally grateful to him. Wavoka wouldn't accept their thanks, but already knew he had their undying gratitude.


	26. Epilogue

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing so faithfully! I'm glad you enjoyed this story, and hope you like the Epilogue. :)

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~Epilogue~

Ben couldn't believe how good it felt to have his own feather bed under him once again, the comfort of a soft pillow behind his head instead of a rock floor, the feel of an actual blanket over him instead of his coat, and the knowledge that all of his sons were safe and sound just across the hall. All those nights of wishing he could hear Hoss's snores, even if just one more time, were coming true. Even now through the thick walls he could hear his son's hearty racket, and it warmed him down to his very bones. He smiled, remembering how he'd felt when he saw his beloved home again, its wooden walls holding so much love and memories. The racket Hop Sing had made when he first saw his employer was one Ben would never forget. The little man had prattled on about how he'd been gone for so long and scolding him for not taking better care of himself. "You say you die, to save boys. Velly bad, Mr. Cartlight. Go back China! Hop Sing have no time for foolishment!" But before the little man had bustled back into his kitchen, Ben had caught the tears welling up in his eyes.

Turning over, he buried his head in the pillow trying to grasp the sleep that, for some reason, was eluding him. Finally, he drew back the covers and swung his legs around, sliding his feet into his slippers, knowing that he needed to do something before he could have any chance of sleeping. Retrieving his robe from the foot of the bed, he drew it on, silently opened his door and crept to the first of three doors at the top of the stairs. He knew it was a groundless worry and only a father's love would insist on him doing it. Drawing the door open, he peered inside and saw his youngest sprawled out across the bed, blankets in great disarray as if they didn't know which end of the bed they were supposed to be on. It baffled Ben how he could get any sleep in the unusual and almost painful-looking positions in which Joe would sometimes sleep.

Closing the door soundlessly, he tiptoed to the next room. He was in no fear of waking this occupant; if the noise hadn't done that already, he was in no danger of it. Hoss's nightly racket was well-known, and it was only from longtime experience that his family had learned to tune out his snoring in order to get any sleep themselves. A smile spread across Ben's face as he opened the door and saw his middle son lying flat on his back, his hands clasping the covers beneath his chin, his mouth wide open.

He shut the door quickly to keep the sound contained in that room before he strode to the third and final door at the end of the hall. No sound came from within, but that wasn't entirely unexpected. Only on very rare occasions would his eldest ever snore, and even in those instances Adam still held to the assertion that he never did. Slipping the door open and gazing inside the darkened room, Ben felt instant panic as he saw the moonlight filtering through the window shining on an empty bed. It was still made up with no signs of it ever having been slept in. He was about to enter the room and check it out further when sounds of metal clinking against metal drifted to him from downstairs. Not bothering to shut the door again, he crept to the end of the hall and peered around the banister into the downstairs.

His eldest was standing in front of the hearth, poking the logs and causing sparks to fly upward from the rejuvenated fire. Ben noticed his shirt was untucked and the first couple buttons undone as if he had intended to go to bed but decided against it. His stockinged foot was propped up on the stone hearth and his right hand was resting on his hip, apparently not seeing fit to help the left one with its half-hearted pokes at the already blazing fire. Ben noticed the hazel eyes, almost appearing black from the lateness of the hour, were fixed on the flames, unblinking and unseeing. All the signs that his eldest son was deep in thought were there, and after considering the idea of leaving him to them, Ben's curiosity and concern got the better of him and he started down the stairs.

The creak that sounded from the first step made Adam look up slowly. "Pa?" he asked quickly, putting his foot down and turning to face him. "Anything wrong?"

"Seems like I should be the one asking that question," Ben replied, tucking his hands into the pockets of his ruby red robe as he finished his descent. "You uh... must admit the middle of the night isn't the most suitable time to make sure the fire's still going."

Adam looked at the poker still in his left hand and smirked at it. "Couldn't sleep. Just figured I'd come down here."

"Oh? Any particular reason?" Ben asked, giving his son the opportunity to speak his mind if he wanted to. Adam dropped his head again and shook it no. Ben looked down at the Indian rug beneath his feet, wishing his eldest had as easy a time letting out what was bothering him as his brothers did. It was obvious he hadn't come down because 'he'd just figured to'. Turning back toward the stairs, Ben noticed the decanter tray on the round, green-topped table next to them.

"Well... as long as we're both up, how about some brandy?" he said, glancing over his shoulder before walking to the table and removing the glass stopper from the ornate bottle. After filling the two small glasses, he replaced the stopper before turning back to his son. Adam's eyes were on him, staring intently, at exactly what Ben couldn't tell. Going over, he raised one of the glasses towards him. "Adam? You alright?"

Adam blinked a few times as if to rouse himself from his thoughts before focusing on the glass in Ben's outstretched hand. "Yeah... thanks, Pa." He ran a hand through the thick black hair on the side of his head before accepting the glass. As he raised it to his lips, he stopped, his eyes wandering back to his father who was tipping his head back and taking a small sip of the amber liquid. His mouth opened slightly as the sight brought to mind a time not too long ago when it had just been he and his memories alone in that same room, memories of dreaming the very thing he was seeing now. He quickly pulled the glass away and turned back to the fire. "Pa?"

"Yes, Adam?"

"I..." he wanted to say so much, but the words just weren't there. How ironic... Adam Cartwright, the man who'd studied the written word practically all his life, now had none to say. After all, what could you say to a person who'd enriched your life so much that to live it any more without him would seem a waste? He turned to Ben who was now quite close to him, understanding and love written in every line of his face.

With the still full glass in his hand, Adam raised it upward. "Here's to you, Pa... I'm glad you're back." He stated it simply, but Ben could hear how hard it was for him to utter even that. Putting his glass down, Ben wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder and applied a very slight pressure. Adam turned slowly and Ben pulled him into a gentle hug, knowing how his eldest, again, wasn't like his other two sons in terms of physical contact. To his surprise, Adam wrapped his arms around him and squeezed with a suddenness that startled him. Ben heard him take a deep gulp trying to keep his emotions in check, and he felt tears almost seep through his own tightly shut eyes as he clung to his eldest, never wanting to let go. After several long moments, Adam stepped back suddenly, clearing his throat in an effort to regain some composure. "I guess... you'd better get to bed. It's still the middle of the night, you know, and you've been through a lot."

Ben smiled. "So have you. You coming?" he motioned to the stairs, from which, at that moment, another rather loud squeak was heard. "Hoss?" Ben exclaimed, turning in surprise. "What are you doing up?"

"I... couldn't rightly sleep, Pa. Figured I'd come down'n see who's makin' all the noise." He said it reproachfully as if perturbed at being awakened, but Ben and Adam knew better as the figure in the checkered nightgown descended to the first floor.

"Brandy, Hoss?" Adam asked, going over to the table.

"Yeah, thanks, Adam." Even at this late hour, Hoss's brow was furrowed in consternation which told Ben his son had something on his mind, and sooner rather than later he would hear about it.

"Anything wrong, Hoss?"

Hoss looked up at him with an innocent, confused look. "Aw, Pa. I just don't understand it. How a man can bottle up so much poison in 'im fer so long... I just don't understand it. He had tuh know you wasn't tuh blame."

"I know, Hoss," Ben said, resting a hand on his son's broad back. "Some people just can't be figured. A man that's bent on revenge, his revenge is like a... a wound that hasn't healed... the infection begins to fester and grow just like his revenge; it spreads and eats away at him. He'd had it for many years, and it'd come to the point of consuming him, a very powerful emotion, Hoss. One nobody should ever keep."

"Yessir."

Adam turned to hand Hoss his drink when a third creak was heard on the steps.

"And just what are _you_ doing down here, young man?" Ben queried, looking up, hands on his hips in feigned frustration as his third and final son descended the steps in his bare feet and scratching his head as if trying to brush aside his slumber.

"Oh, Pa, you know I don't sleep if I can't hear Hoss's racket in the next room." Ben smiled at the tired grin his son gave him.

"I guess this calls for another glass," Adam commented dryly, clearing his throat slightly as he filled another of the crystal ware.

Joe stepped over to the hearth and blew on his hands before rubbing them together in front of the flames. "Hey, Pa. I forgot to ask. How'd Doc say that Travis fella was doing?"

"Well, he's had a rough turn. Lost quite a bit of blood, poor lad, but Paul said he thought he could bring him through it alright."

"What'll happen to 'im, Pa?" Hoss asked.

"I don't think anything, Hoss. Without his help we might never have made it out of there alive. He'll probably be suspect for quite a while, but he may earn his way back to having the slate wiped completely clean when the town realizes he's a good young man."

"I heard a while back one of Roy's deputies is thinking about leaving in a few months," Adam spoke up as he came back over to the group. "Perhaps Travis might even fit into a job like that. I think he's certainly proven himself."

"Hey, wouldn't that be somethin'?" Hoss beamed.

"Sure would," Ben replied. "Quite ironic, as a matter of fact."

"Looks like everything'll work out for him then, huh," Adam resumed his leaning against the hearth's stonework.

"Yes... everything worked out. But it wouldn't have if it hadn't been for you boys."

"Aw, Pa, you otta known you couldn't get rid of us three roughnecks that easy," Hoss joked, but his blue eyes held a touch of seriousness.

"Oh, I would never try, son, except for maybe now. If you three haven't noticed, it is the middle of the night; why don't you 'roughnecks' get to bed."

"Aw, now, Pa, I haven't even finished my drink," Joe whined, flopping down onto the settee next to Hoss. As if on cue, Adam also took his place in the blue chair, and the three seemed to settle in, perfectly content to just sip away on their drinks as if they didn't want to part company despite the inconvenience of the hour. Finding himself outnumbered, Ben slid into his own red leather chair as conversation slowly developed among the four of them**, **laughs and good times exchanged and everything the way it should be.

After a while, Ben let the conversation go on without him, rapt in the music his son's voices made and realizing that sort of thing probably hadn't taken place among them in quite some time. Their financial status had been severely damaged, and it would probably take them a good two years to build back their livestock, but Ben knew they would make it. He still couldn't believe the amount of support he'd already received from a good many of their friends. However close that devil McWhorter might've come to destroying his family, he hadn't succeeded. He remembered a time during his imprisonment when he had wondered if he could keep on going, if it would be worth it. Surrounded now by his family, all of them safe and ensconced in their battered but still very much their own Ponderosa once again, he chided himself for a fool...

It was worth it... It had all been worth it...

**~The End~**

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**For some reason I am unable to PM Areader and cma, directly so I would like to thank you two on here for reading and especially reviewing this story. I'm glad you enjoyed it and thank you again for showing your support through your reviews. :) **

**~ClassivLovinGirl (aka: Cliff) ;) **


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